, 


NO.  87. 
ADVICE 

FROM 

A  MASTER  TO  HIS  APPRENTICE 


WHEN   LEAVING   HIS   SERVICE,   AND   ENTERING   ON   LIFE 
FOR  HIMSELF. 


NEW-YORK, 

PUBLISHED  BY  J.  EMOKY  AND  B.  WAUGH, 

THE  TRACT  SOCIETY  OF  THE  METHODIST  EPISCOPAL    CHURCH, 
AT  tfllE  COKFCRLJfCE  OFFICE,  14  CROSBY-STEBBT. 

Azor  Hoyt,  Printer. 
1828. 


ADVICE  FROM 
A  MASTER  TO  HIS  APPRENTICE. 


IT  has  been  my  endeavour,  from  the  time  you  were  first 
committed  to  my  care,  to  guard  you  against  those  evils  to 
which  your  inexperienced  age  was  exposed,  and  to  direct 
and  encourage  you  in  the  principles  of  religion  and  prac- 
tices of  virtue,  that  so  you  might  lay  the  foundation  for  a 
happy  and  useful  life.  "  I  would  now,  with  great  affection, 
fulfil  the  last  part  of  my  trust,  by  giving  you  some  impor- 
tant counsels  and  cautions,  at  your  entrance  on  a  new  stage 
of  life,  wherein  you  will  meet  with  temptations  and  diffi- 
culties which  you  never  yet  experienced,  and  will  need  all 
the  assistance  you  can  receive  from  God  and  man,  for  your 
wise  and  happy  conduct. 

1.  See  that  the  foundation  of  religion  be  well  laid,  in  a 
sincere  conversion,  an  entire  and  willing  resignation  of 
your  soul  to  God,  as  your  sovereign  Lord  and  Ruler  and 
supreme  and  satisfying  Good ;  living  by  faith  on  Christ 
Jesus  as  the  Saviour  and  Hope  of  sinners,  through  whose 
mercy  and  mediation  you  are  to  seek  for,  and  receive, 
every  blessing  from  God,  for  time  and  eternity.     If  some- 
times you  faintly  hope  that  you  have  already  advanced  ' 
thus  far,  my  advice  is,  that  you  never  rest  satisfied  till  you 
have,  in  your  own  conscience,  a  full  evidence  of  the  im- 
portant and  delightful  fact.     It  is  a  dreadful  thing  for  an 
immortal  spirit  to  hang  in  a  state  of  suspense,  by  the  slen- 
der thread  of  life,  between  two  such  amazing  extremes  as 
an  eternal  heaven  or  an  eternal  hell.     Satisfaction  may 
be  had  ;  and,  believe  a  friend,  it  is  worth  all  the  prayers, 
pains,  and  vigilance,  you  can  use  to  obtain  it. 

2.  As  you*are  entering  into  a  world  wherein  a  variety 
i>f  examples,  methods  of  conduct,  and  maxims  in  religion 
will  be  presented  to  you,  some  plausible,  some  pernicious, 
and  many  destructive ;  if  you  value  your  conscience  or  your 
comfort,  make  the  sacred  word  of  Gfbd,  which  is  to  be  the 
rule  of  your  future  judgment,  the  invariable  rule  of  your 

"isposition  and  practice.  You  will  never  find  a  more  faith- 
:!  counsellor,  a  more  advantageous  guide,  or  a  more  cor- 
;«i  an.i  constant  friend,  than  in  those  sacred  oracles  of 

87 


3 

\visilom  and  truth,  if  you  closely  study  and  practise  them. 
Let  no  day,  therefore,  pass  over  without  some  serious  pe- 
rusal of  them,  j«ined  with  humble,  earnest  prayer  to  God 
for  wisdom  to  understand  them,  and  power  to  conform  to 
them.  Study  the  inimitable  ru  les  of  wisdom  and  prudence 
in  the  Proverbs  of  Solomon,  to  direct  your  practice  ;  the 
Psalm*  of  David,  to  inspire  your  devotion ;  and  the  whole 
word  of  God,  especially  the  New  Testament,  to  form  your 
faith,, your  hope,  and  your  temper.  Particularly,  treasure 
up  in  your  mind  some  passages  relating  to  each  revealed 
doctrine,  each  commanded  duty,  and  each  forbitlden  tem- 
per ;  that  your  belief  may  be  directed  by  the  wisdom,  and 
your  conscience  awed  by  the  authority  of  God,  in  every 
season  of  duty  and  temptation.  "Bind  them  continually 
upon  thy  heart,  and  tie  them  about  thy  neck.  When  thou 
goest,  it  shall  lead  thee  ;  when  thou  sleepest,  it  shall  keep 
thce  ;  and  when  thou  awakest,  it  shall  talk  with  thee;  for 
tie  commandment  is  a  lamp  ;  and  the  law  is  a  light ;  and 
the  reproofs  of  instruction  arc  the  way  of  life,"  Proverbs 
vi,  21-23. 

3.  If  you  would  enjoy  the  pleasures  of  a  rational,  reli- 
gious being,  let  your  actions  not  only  be  lawful  for  the  mat- 
ter of  them,  but  laudable  as  to  the  ends  for  which  you  per- 
form them ;  that  is,  let  it  be  the  chief  view,  and  highest 
end,  in  all  you  do,  to  please  God,  and  glorify  him.  It  is 
the  great  prerogative  of  the  most  high  God,  and  the  proper 
homage  that  is  due  to  him  from  all  his  reasonable  creatures, 
i hat  as  he  is  their  Creator  and  absolute  Owner,  so  he  is 
their  chief  End  in  all  things ;  and  this  end  should  be  ha- 
bitually regarded  by  them  in  all  their  actions.  It  is  the 
frreat  condescension  of  God,  and  consolation  of  religion, 
that  God  hath  not  only  permitted  us  to  enjoy  the  comforts, 
ind  perform  the  offices  of  life,  but  hath  made  it  part  of 
•ur  duty  so  to  do :  so  that  there  is  not  a  minute  of  our 
MVCS,  but  we  may  be  doing  the  work  of  God  while  we  are 
serving  ourselves,  and  may  convert  the  common  actions  of 
life  into  the  services  of  religion,  by  directing  them  to  his 
glory.  Study  noble  views,  in  all  you  do :  devote  your- 
self entirely  to  God,  and  he  will  return  you  to  yourself 
wiser  and  better  than  he  found  you  ;  study  to  glorify  him 
by  a  life  of  holiness  and  beneficence,  and  he  will  honour 
Jind  bless  you.  So  much  as  is  done  for  God,  he  will  ac- 
cept and  reward  as  the  expression  of  your  duty  and  aflec- 


2O3OO34 


tion  ;  but  what  is  done  from,  low  and  selfish  views,  is  lost 
from  your  account.  "  Whatsoever  you  do,  therefore,  do  it 
in  singleness  of  heart,  as  unto.  Christ ;  with  good  will,  do- 
ing service  as  io  the  Lord,"  Eph.  vi,  5-7. 

4.  Be  very  watchful  against  an  inordinate  affection  for 
the  present  world.     Use,  it  with  sober  cheerfulness,  and 
gratitude  to  Heaven,  as  far  as  is  necessary  to  your  present 
comfortable  existence ;  but  suffer  it  not  to  engage  your 
heart.     An  earthly,  sensual  mind, is  the  basest  perversion 
of  the  noble  faculties  of  the  soul  of  man,  and  the  highest 
dishonour  reflected  on  that  glorious  and  good  being  who 
created  and  redeemed  it,  and  proposes  himself  to  be  its 
full  felicity  and  eternal  joy.     The  predominant  degree  of 
this  evil  and  sordid  disposition  is  ever  inconsistent  with 
sincerity  in  religion;  and  the  inordinate  degrees  of  it  in 
good  men  are  the  foundation  of  many  sorrows  and  divine 
rebukes.     Very  just  is  the  observation  which  I  remember 
to  have  seen,  "  That  whatever  we  make  an  idol  of,  will 
be  a  cross  to  us,  if  we  belong  to  Christ ;  and  a  curse  to  us>, 
if  we  do  not."     The  interests  of  the  soul,  in  sincere  Chris- 
tians, more  frequently  suffer  from  the  unhallowed  love  of 
lawful  objects  than  from  the  lo\e  of  unlawful  ones.    Watch 
carefully,  therefore,  over  your  affections ;  and  when  any 
temporal  good  appears  unusually  delightful,  see  that  your 
inclinations  to  God  do  not  grow  feeble  and  languid  thereby, 
and  your  affections  to  spiritual  concerns  more  cold  and  in- 
different :  remembering  "  that  to  be  carnally  minded  is 
death  ;  but  to  be  spiritually  minded  is  life  and  peace." 

5.  Labour  to  possess,  and  constantly  to  cherish,  a  meek 
and  humble  spirit,  which  is  of  high  estimation  in   the 
sight  of  God  and  man.     This  will,  make  you  easy  to  be 
pleased,  difficult  to  be  offended,  calm  and  serene  in  every 
circumstance  of  life.     This  will  cause  you  to  be  courteous 
and  affable  to  inferiors,  respectful  to  superiors,  and  will 
procure  honour  and  esteem  from  others,  far  beyond  all  the 
assuming  airs  of  pride,  arrogance,  and  self  applause.    Es- 
pecially let  this  disposition  be  cherished  in  all  your  reli- 
gious con/eras ;  a  condescending  God,  a  humble  Redeemer, 
and  a  proud  sinner  are  the  most  astonishing  scenes  that  can 
present  themselves  to  the  mind  of  man.     Labour  to  be 
sensible  how  little  knowledge  and  goodness  you  possess, 
compared  with  the  rule  of  your  duty,  and  the  attainments 
of  others  ;  and  never  measure  yourself  but  by  your  supe- 


riors  in  wisdom  and  goodness,  except  to  excite  your  grati- 
tude to  Heaven  for  its  greater  favours  to  yourself. 

6.  Watch  over  the  natural  appetites  of  the  body,  lest 
those  senses,  which  were  designed  to  administer  innocent 
pleasures,  become  the  incentive  to  sin.     The  sensitive  af- 
fections have  so  far  overpowered  reason  and  conscience  in 
man,  that  the  Scripture  can  find  no  word  more  fit  to  de- 
scribe his  fallen  state,  than  flesh  ;  and  I  can  assure  you 
that  it  requires  all  the  assistance,  which  reason  and  reli- 
gion afford,  to  keep  them  in  due  subordination.     Be  chaste 
and  virtuous,  not  only  in  your  discourse  and  behaviour, 
but  in  the  dispositions  of  your  mind ;  indulge  no  wanton 
thoughts  or  looks,  and  carefully  avoid  every  sort  of  temp- 
tation ;  for  you  know  not  how  great  a  flame  the  spark  of 
hist,  when  indulged,  may  kindle.     Observe  the  injunctions, 
which  our  Lord  and  Saviour  has  given,  concerning  the 
government  of  the  eyes  ;  Matt,  v,  28 ;  and  recollect  that 
the  unclean  shall  not  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  our  God. 
Be  sober  and  temperate  in  the  use  of  diet  and  drink  ;  every 
degree  is  excessive  herein,  which  renders  you  indisposed 
to  action  and  exercise  of  body  and  mind  :  particularly,  let 
no  company  engage  you  to  exceed  the  bounds  of  reason ; 
a  peremptory  refusal  or  two,  at  first,  will  ever  after  free 
yon  from  their  solicitations  ;  but  easy  compliance  will  en- 
courage their  repeated  assaults. 

7.  Be  very  cautious  in  your  choice  of  company  and 
friends,  for  we  insensibly  grow  like  those  whom  we  fre- 
quently and  familiarly  converse  with.     Be  rude  and  un- 
civil to  none,  but  intimate  only  with  few ;  and  let  those 
few  be  well  chosen,  such  as  you  may  improve  by  in  virtue 
and  goodness.     Especially  let  this  advice  be  attended  to  in 
the  choice  of  a  relation  for  life.     Affection  is  often  blind, 
and  makes  fatal  mistakes  both  as  to  persons  and  things;  if 
therefore  you  would  consult  your  true  happiness,  never 
enter  into  an  engagement  of  this  nature,  without  seriously 
considering  the  importance  of  Christian  character,  and  ad- 
vising with  your  elder  and  more  judicious  friends,  whose 
knowledge  of  human  nature  will  assist  you  to  form  a  pro- 
per judgment  on  one  of  the  most  interesting  subjects  which 
can  come  before  the  human  mind.     Be  careful  daily  to 
worship  God  in  secret,  according  to  the  direction  of  our 
Saviour,  Matt,  vi,  1.     And  should  you  be  placed  at  the/ 
head  of  a  family,  worship  Him  morning  and  evening,  with 

87 

' 


your  household.  Be  constant  also  in  your  attendance  o  i 
public  worship  ;  and  see  that  all  under  your  care  do  the 
same.  Let  the  Sabbath  be  observed  from  beginning  to 
end,  as  a  day  of  holy  rest.  In  all  your  ways  acknowledge 
God,  and  he  will  direct  your  paths. 

8.  I  cannot  conclude  thisletter  of  advice  without  strongly 
recommending  benevolence,  as  the  noblest  disposition, 
and  as  an  inlet  to  the  richest  enjoyment.  Consider  your- 
self as  a  member  of  the  universe,  whose  proper  dispositioa 
is  to  feel  the  sorrows,  and  rejoice  in  the  happiness,  of  all 
the  beings  thai  surround  you ;  and  permit  me  to  assure  you 
that  the  sensual,  the  covetous,  the  ambitious,  in  the  highest 
gratification  of  their  desires,  never  felt  a  joy  comparable 
to  that  of  doing  good.  Watch,  therefore,  against  a  con- 
tracted, selfish  spirit,  as  no  less  injurious  to  yourself  than 
to  others  ;  and  be  diligent,  prudent,  and  frugal,  in  ail  your 
n;anagement,  that  you  may  have  the  privifege  of  being  a 
great  blessing  to  others  ;  especially  endeavour  to  promote 
their  best  interests,  by  all  possible  means,  whereby  you 
may  be  an  everlasting  blessing  unto  them. 

?Tlay  the  God  of  all  grace  inspire  your  heart  with  hea- 
venly wisdom,  preserve  yon  from  the  evils  of  life,  grant  you 
prosperity,  and  make  you  a  blessing  in  every  relation 
thereof;  may  he  give  you  to  feel  the  power,  and  enjoy 
the  pleasures  of  religion  in  this  world,  and  in  due  time 
grant  you  to  receive  the  rewards  of  it  in  a  better.  This 
is  the  hearty  prayer  and  desire  of 

.  Your  sincere  friend,  and 

Affectionate  master. 


"  Know  thou  the  God  of  thy  father,  and  serve  him  with 
a  perfect  heart,  and  with  a  willing  mind.  For  the  Lord 
searcheth  all  hearts,  and  understandeth  all  the  imagina- 
tions of  the  thoughts ;  if  thou  seek  him  he  will  be  found  of 
thee;  but,  if  thou  forsake  him,  he  will  cast  thee  off  for 


BREATHING  AFTER  HOLINESS. 

OH  !  that  the  Lord  would  guide  my  ways 

To  keep  his  statutes  still ! 
Oh  !  that  my  God  would  grant  me  grace 

To  know  and  do  his  will. 
Oh !  send  thy  Spirit  down  to  write 

Thy  laws  upon  my  heart! 
Nor  let  my  tongue  indulge  (Deceit, 

Nor  act  the  liar's  part. 

From  vanity  turn  off  mine  eyes ; 

Let  no  corrupt  design, 
Nor  covetous  desire  arise 

Within  this  soul  of  mine. 

Order  my  footsteps  by  thy  word, 

And  make  my  heart  sincere  ; 
Let  sin  have  no  dominion,  Lord, 

But  keep  my  conscience  clear. 
My  soul  hath  gone  too  far  astray, 

My  feet  too  often  slip, 
Yet  since  I've  not  forgot  thy  way, 

Restore  thy  wand'ring  sheep. 

Make  me  to  walk  in  thy  commands  ; 

'Tis  a  delightful  road  ; 
Nor  let  my  head,  or  heart,  or  hands, 

Offend  iigainst  my  God. 


INSTRUCTIONS  FROM  SCRIPTURE. 

How  shall  the  young  secure  their  hearts, 
And  guard  their  lives  from  sin  1 

Thy  word  the  choicest  rules  imparts, 
To  keep  the  conscience  clean. 


.     '  8 

When  once  it  enters  to  the  mind, 
It  spreads  such  light  abroad, 

'..'  he  meanest  souls  instruction  find, 
And  raise  their  thoHghts  to  God. 

'Tis  like  the  sun,  a  heavenly  light, 
That  guides  us  all  the  day ; 

And  through  the  dangers  of  the  night, 
A  lamp  to  lead  our  way. 

The  men  that  keep  thy  law  with  care, 

And  meditate  thy  word, 
-vrow  wiser  than  their  teachers  are, 

And  better  know  the  Lord. 

Thy  precepts  make  me  truly  wise ; 

1  hate  the  sinner's  road  : 
I  have  my  ownurain  thoughts  that  rise, 

But  love  thy^law,  my  God. 
The  starry  heavens  thy  rule  obey, 

The  earth  maintains  her  placeij 
And  these  thy  servants  night  and  Hay, 

Thy  skill  and  power  express. 

But  still  thy  law  and  gospel,  Lord, 

Have  lessons  more  divine ;. 
Not  earth  stands  firmer  than  thy  word, 

Nor  stars  so  nobly  shine. 
Thy  word  is  everlasting  truth, 

How  pure  is  every  page ! 
That  holy  book  shall  guide  our  youth, 

And  well  support  our  age. 


Ko !  all  ye  hungry,  starving  souls, 

*  That  feed  upon  the  wind, 
And  vainly  strive  with  earthly  toys 
To  fill  an  empty  mind  ; 

Kt-?rnal  wisdom  hath  prepared 

A  iioul-reviving  feast, 
And  bids  your  longing  appetites 

The  rich  provision  taste. 


NO.  68 


'« At  her  earnest  request  I  now  prayed  juth  her." 

THE  COTTAGER'S  WIFE. 


'  •  To  the  poor,' '  said  our  Lord  when  questioned  as  to 
divine  mission,  "  is  the  gospel  preached."  The  "  com- 
mon people,"  too,  we  are  told  by  one  of  the  evangelists, 
heard  our  Saviour  "  gladly."  St.  Paul  declares,  "  that  not 
many  wise  men  after  the  flesh,  not  many  mighty,  not  many 
•noble  are  called."  And  St.  James  asks,  whether  it  is  not 
notorious  that  God  hath  chosen  the  "poor  of  this  world, 
rich  in  faith,  and  heirs  of  the  kingdom  which  he  hath  pro- 
mised to  those  that  love  him  ?"  The  subsequent  history 
of  the  church  of  Christ  presents  a  similar  testimony.  To 
the  poor  the  gospel  hath  still  been  preached,  and  by  them 
it  has,  in  general,  been  most  favourably  received.  Among 
this  h/umble  class,  some  of  the  most  striking  instances  of 
the  power  and  grace  of  Christ  have  been  exhibited  ;  and 
by  .them  have  the  rich  blessings  of  his  gospel  been  fre- 
qo/ently  most  highly  prized,  and  most  purely  enjoyed. 

'  In  adding  another  proof  of  the  truth  of  these  remarks, 
from  an  example  which  lately  fell  under  my  own  observa- 
tion, my  only  motives  are  to  display  the  glory  of  the  Re- 
deemer, and  the  excellency  of  the  gospel ;  and  to  draw 
-  from  a  simple  statement  of  facts,  a  few  plain  but  important 
lessons  of  instruction  and  consolation,  for  the  benefit  of 
my  Christian  brethren. 

I  was  lately  called  to  undertake  the  pastoral  care  of  a 


small  parish,  in  one  of  the  inland  counties.  My  predeces- 
sor, now  gone  t>>  give  up  his  account  to  the  great  Shepherd 
and  Bishop  of  souls,  was  a  man  of  considerable  talents  and 
learning ;  of  sincere  piety,  and  most  amiable  manners.  In 
his  parish,  lij^prea^tiing  and  private  exertions  had  produ- 
ced a  remarkM)le  degree  of  regularity  and  decency  of  man- 
ners among  the  poor  people,  of  whom  it  was  almost  exclu- 
sively composed.  How  far  his  labours  were  blessed  in 
producii.  .uine  and  unequivocal  fruits  of  repent- 

ance and  faith  in  the  heart  of  any  of  his  parishioners,  which 
every  zealous  minister  is  anxious  to  perceive,  I  am  as  yet 
scarcely  competent  to  determine.  Yet  in  the  case  of  the 
person  of  whom  I  am  now  about  to  give  you  a  short  ac- 
count, I  found  that  he  had  been  instrumental  of  much  good, 
both  by  his  sermons,  his  private  instructions,  and  the  books 
which  he  had  giv^i  her. 

I  had  officiated  but  once  in  my  parish,  when  I  was  told 
that  there  was  a  poor  young  woman  supposed  to  be  in  a 
decline,  who  wished  to  see  me.  I  accordingly  took  an 
early  opportunity  of  calling  on  her.  As  I  resided  about. 
two  miles  from  the  village,  and  could  have,  as  yet,  but  a 
slight  acquaintance  with  the  characters  of  its  inhabitants, 
t  was  employed  on  my  way,  in  considering  in  what  manner  , 
I  might  be  likely  to  render  my  visit  most  profitable  to  my  \ 
poor  patient.  My  clerical  brethren,  and  indeed  all  those* 
who  have  been  in  the  habit  of  attending  the  sick  beds, 
whether  of  the  rich  or  the  poor,  will  readily  enter  into  the 
anxiety  and  perplexity  of  my  thoughts  upon  such  a  subject. 
They  will  not  be  surprised,  that  my  expectations,  as  to  the 
actual  state  of  the  sick  person,  \vere  not  very  favourable; 
and  that  I  rather  feared  to  find,  what  is  so  commonly  met 
with  on  these  occasions,  either  great  insensibility  and  un- 
concern, or  a  false  and  ill-grounded  satisfaction  and  confi- 
dence in  the  goodness  and  safety  of  her  condition.  Tt  i- 
a  melancholy  consideration,  that  there  should  in  general 
be  so  much  ground  for  such  apprehensions;  and  while  it 
shows  the  vast  importance  of  a  parochical  ministry,  it  may 
serve  to  quicken  those  who  are  engaged  in  it,  to  the  dili- 
gent use  of  every  means  of  awakening  and  instructing  their 
flocks.  Absorbed  in  this  painful  but* profitable  train  of 
thought,  I  arrived  at  the  village  and  was  soon  directed,  by 
rny  clerk's  daughter,  to  one  of  the  smallest  cottages  I  had 
ever  seen.  On  lifting  the  latch  of  this  lowly  dwelling 


I  was  struck  with  the  remarkable  cleanliness  and  neat- 
ness of  every  part  of  it.  The  furniture,  though  of  the 
humblest  kind,  was  decent,  and  in  the  most  perfect  order, 
and  various  traces  might  be  perceived  of  the  industry  and 
care  of  the  mistress  of  this  little  abode,  though  she  had  no\v 
been  confined  for  some  weeks  to  her  bed.  The  cottage 
consisted  but  of  two  small  rooms,  separated  by  a  few  stairs, 
or  rather  steps,  which  led  from  the  one  to  the  other.  I  was 
met  at  my  entrance  by  a  pleasing  looking  elderly  woman, 
holding  in  her  arms  an  infant,  a  few  months  old.  "  1 
heard,"  said  I,  "  that  a  young  woman  was  ill  here,  and  ] 
have  called  to  see  her.  Are  you  her  mother  ?"  "I  am  her 
husband's  mother,  sir,  and  this  is  her  little  child.  Poor, 
dear  babe,  he  has  never  known  the  comfort  of  his  mother, 
and  I  am  very  much  afraid  lie  will  soonJose  her."  "  I  am 
sorry,"  said  I,  "  to  hear  she  is  so  ill  Would  she  like  to 
see  me  now,  do  you  think  ?"  "  Oh  yes,  sir,  that  1  am  sure 
she  will."  This  answer  was  made  in  so  unusual  a  tone  of 
confidence  and  apparent  welcome,  that  I  could  not  help 
hailing  it  as  a  token  for  good.  How  often,  alas  !  are  min- 
isters received  with  a  degree  of  coldness  and  indifference, 
;n  their  visits  to  the  sick,  which  too  plainly  proves  that  these 
abours  of  love  are  but  slightly  valued,  if  at  all  desired. 

The  reply  was  no  sooner  made,  than  I  followed  the  good 
ivoman  into  the  sick  room.  It  was  a  little  apartment  form- 
ed out  of  the  roof  of  the  cottage,  open  to  the  stairs,  and 
without  any  means  of  warming  it  by  a  fire.  The  walls  were 
white  washed,  and  it  had  one  very  small  casement,  which 
its  ueat  but  afflicted  tenant  had  adorned  with  a  little  mus- 
lin curtain.  On  a  bedstead  just  raised  1'rom  the  floor,  and 
without  any  curtain  to  shelter  hei  from  the  keen  air  of 
winter  lay  the  poor  object  of  my  visit,  apparently  far  ad- 
vanced in  a  consumption.  "  Alas  !"  thought  I,  "  this  is  but 
a  comfortless  accommodation  for  one  in  such  a  disorder  ! 
How  many  in  the  midst  of  health,  would  think  themselves 
hardly  used,  to  be  obliged  to  content  themselves  with  such 
an  apartment '?  Can  I  ever  murmur  at  any  circumstances 
in  my  own  comparatively  favoured  lot  ?  Forbid-  it,  Lord ! 
and  forgive  the  repining  thoughts  which  have  sometime.- 
found  admission  into  my  mind.  Oh  !  make  me  thankful 
for  my  superior  blessings ;  and  in  whatsoever  state  I  am, 
let  me  learn  therewith  to  be  content."  These  and  similai 
thoughts  passed  rapidly  through  my  mind  as  I  approached 


the  bedside  of  my  poor  parishioner.     "  M ,"  said  her 

mother  in  law,  "  here  is  the  minister  come  to  see  you." 
"  I  am  very  glad  to  see  him,"  was  the  immediate  answer, 
"and  greatly  obliged  to  him  for  coming  so  far  in  this 
cold  weather."  "  How  do  you  find  yourself?"  said  I.  "I 
am  very  ill,  sir,  and  feel  that  I  am  getting  weaker  every 
day."  "  How  long  have  you  been  ill  ?"  "Three  and  twen- 
ty weeks,  sir.  I  have  never  been  well  since  the  birth  of 
my  poor  babe,  and  I  begin  to  think  that  I  shall  never  re- 
cover." I  perceived  at  once  by  the  hectic  flush  upon  her 
cheek,  and  by  the  difficulty  with  which  she  breathed,  tha, 
her  apprehensions  were  but  too  well  founded,  and  there- 
fore determined  to  lose  no  time  in  examining  the  state  oi 
her  mind  as  to  religion.  "  Your  illness,"  said  I,  "  has  indeed 
been  very  long,  an<|  seems  now  to  be  very  serious ;  but  this 
is  the  Lord's  doing — it  is  He  who  has  laid  you  on  the  bee 
of  sickness  ;  and  the  length  of  your  confinement  has  givei. 
you  a  very  merciful  opportunity  of  thinking  upon  religion 
and  the  concerns  of  your  soul.  I  hope  you  have  improved 
it."  "  I  have  tried  to  do  so,  sir."  "  I  am  glad  to  hear  you 
say  so ;  but  let  me  have  a  little  serious  conversation  with 
you  upon  this  subject."  "  That  is  what  I  greatly  desire, 
sir."  "  Religion,  you  know,  should  be  the  great  business 
of  our  lives,  whether  in  health  or  sickness,  but  especially 
in  sickness ;  and  since  your  state  seems  very  uncertain,  le: 
me  ask  you  what  you  think  about  it.  If  it  should  please 
God  that  you  should  not  recover,  what  hope  have  you  as 
to  another  world  ?"  Those  who  know  by  painful  experi- 
ence the  answers  which  are  commonly  made  both  by  the 
rich  and  the  poor  to  such  a  question,  will  judge  of  the  sur- 
prise and  pleasure  I  felt  on  hearing  a  very  different  reply 
from  my  afflicted  parishioner.  In  feeble  accents,  broken 
and  interrupted  by  her  cough  and  labouring  breath,  shr 
spoke  as  nearly  as  I  can  recollect,  as  follows : — "  Sir,  I 
know  and  acknowledge  that  I  am  a  poor  miserable  sinner  ; 
a  great  sinner,  sir.  I  do  not  mean  that  I  ever  committed 
any  very  heinous  crime  :  but  notwithstanding  this,  I  kno\v 
and  feel  that  I  am  a  very  sinful  creature.  I  have  endeavour- 
ed, sir,  during  my  long  illness,  to  call  to  mind  my  past  life : 
and  as  nearly  as  I  can  remember,  /  have  spread  all  my  sin* 
hefore  God,  and  earnestly  begged  his  forgiveness  through 
Jesus  Christ.  I  know  and  believe  that  he  is  the  only  Sa- 
viour of  sinners — I  put  my  whole  trust  in  him — and  I  hope 


I  have  come  to  him — I  know  that  he  is  a  merciful  Saviour — 
but,  sir,"  (and  here  she  burst  into  tears,)  "  when  I  reflect 
upon  my  vileness  and  sinfulness,  I  often  fear  that  he  will  not 
receive  me — and  if  Christ  should  refuse  me,  where  shall  I 
go,  or  what  shall  I  do  to  be  saved  !"  Many  of  my  readers 
will  anticipate  my  reply  to  this  affecting  but  hopeful  de- 
claration. I  told  my  poor  patient,  that  I  was  truly  rejoiced 
to  hear  what  she  had  just  been  saying  ;  that  the  frame  of  her 
mind  was  very  much  what  I  wished  it  to  be ;  and  that  if 
she  was  perfectly  sincere  in  what  she  had  told  me,  of  which 
indeed,  from  her  whole  air  and  manner,  I  could  have  but 
little  doubt,  there  was  much  taat  1  could  say  to  comfori 
her.  I  said  that  it  was  a  great  satisfaction  to  me  to  find 
that  she  was  convinced  of  her  sinful  state,  and  of  the  ne- 
cessity of  Christ  as  a  Saviour,  and  assured  her  that  if  she 
came  to  him  with  a  sincere  and  humble  faith,  there  could 
be  no  doubt  of  his  willingness  to  receive  her.  To  confirm 
this  I  read  to  her  several  passages  of  Scripture,  particularly 
1  Tim.  i,  15;  John  iii,  16,  17,  and  vi,  37;  and  Matt,  xi, 
28-30;  to  which  she  listened  with  profound  and  eager 
attention,  and  afterwards  expressed  the  encouragement 
and  consolation  which  they  afforded  her. 

Fearing,  however,  that  what  had  given  me  so  much  plea- 
sure might  possibly  be,  at  least  in  part,  owing  to  a  religious 
education,  or  to  a  merely  nominal  acquaintance  with  reli- 
gious sentiments  and  phraseology,  I  inquired  of  my  poor 
parishioner  where  she  had  obtained  a  degree  of  knowledge 
in  religion,  which,  unhappily,  was  but  too  seldom  met  with 
in  visiting  sick  beds.     She  told  me  that  as  long  ago  as  she 
could  remember,  she  had  been  impressed  with  the  fear  of 
God,  and  a  strong  desire  to  be  a  true  Christian.     "  When 
I  was  quite  a  child,  sir,"  said  she,  "  I  had  a  great  dread  of 
the  Almighty  upon  me."     This  was  her  exact  expression, 
by  which  I  doubt  not  she  meant  to  describe  that,  which  the 
Psalmist  speaks  of  when  he  says,  "  Even  from  my  youth 
up,  thy  terrors  have  I  suffered  with  a  troubled  mind."  "  At 
this  early  age,  sir,"  she  continued,"  I  remember  that  I  often 
left  my  companions  to  engage  in  prayer  ;  and  as  I  grew  up, 
and  went  into  the  fields  to  work  with  other  young  people, 
I  have  sometimes  been  so  full  of  thought  and  anxiety  about 
my  soul  that  I  have  spoken  of  what  I  was  thinking  aloud, 
and  now  and  then  uttered  a  short  prayer  :  upon  which  my 
companions  genersflly  laughed,  and  called  me  by  some 
1*  ^ 


6 

nickname.  My  greatest  delight,  sir,  was  to  go  to  church ; 
and  as  I  had  a  very  good  memory,"  proofs  of  which  she 
frequently  gave  me  in  the  course  of  my  visits,  "  I  was  able 
to  remember  a  great  many  texts  of  Scripture,  which  I  used 
to  think  of  when  I  was  by  myself.  I  recollect  to  this  hour, 
sir,  some  of  the  sermons  I  heard  when  I  was  quite  young. 
At  that  time  my  great  desire  was  to  become  prepared  ta 
partake  of  the  Lord's  supper ;  and  I  often  begged  some  of 
my  friends  to  read  to  me  upon  the  subject.  After  this  I 
learned  to  read  myself,  and  oh  !  what  a  great  blessing  I 
have  found  it  to  read  the  word  of  God  !" 

The  preceding  account  of  the  early  feelings  and  dispo- 
sitionsof  this  poor  young  woman,  satisfied  me  that  the  grace 
of  God  had  visited  her  heart,  and  had  long  been  drawing1 
her  to  an  acquaintance  with  himself,  and  with  her  Redeem- 
er. How  highly  should  we  prize  these  Divine  impressions 
and  attractions  in  our  own  cases,  and  how  anxious  should 
we  be  to  cherish  and  improve  them  in  others  !  But,  alas  ! 
how  often  are  they  neglected,  and  checked  by  some  sinful 
pursuit,  or  worldly  object ;  until  God  in  his  all-wise  and 
merciful  providence  interposes  for  our  deliverance  !  Thus 
it  was  with  the  humble  subject  of  this  narrative.  After  the 
promising  beginning  which  has  been  mentioned,  the  vani- 
ties of  youth,  and  the  evil  communications  of  these  with 
whom  she  lived  in  service,  led  her  away  from  God  and  re- 
ligion, and  though  preserved  from  gross  sins,  she  lived 
some  years  in  a  careless  and  worldly  manner.  "  What  a 
mercy  it  was,  sir,"  said  she,  while  mentioning  this  unhap- 
py period,  "  that  I  was  not  cut  off  in  the  midst  of  it,  with- 
out repentance  and  preparation  for  eternity !  I  bless  God 
that  he  has  been  pleased  to  spare  me,  though  he  has  brought 
me  into  the  affliction  in  which  you  see  me."  "  Pray,"  said 
I,  "  what  circumstances  roused  you  to  serious  thought  after 
you  had  thus  been  living  in  a  negligent  way?"  "  Several 
things  happened,  sir,  to  bring  about  this  blessed  change  in 

me.     Mr.  N came  to  be  minister  at  H ,  and  his 

sermons  went  to  my  heart ;  and  not  to  mine  only,  but  to 
my  poor  aged  mother's  and  to  one  of  my  sister's.  Then, 
sir,  not  long  after,  this  dear  sister  died,  of  the  same  disorder 
that  I  am  now  in — and  so  peacefully,  so  happily,  that  no- 
body could  doubt  of  her  having  gone  to  heaven.  Her 
death  was  greatly  blessed  to  me ;  and  I  have  often  prayed 
!hat  mine  might  be  like  it." 


Perceiving  that  she  began  to  be  fatigued,  I  was  unwil- 
ling to  prolong  the  conversation  at  this  time  farther  than  to 
ask  her  whether  she  had  been  much  in  the  habit  of  prayer. 
She  replied  that  she  had :  "  but  now,  sir,"  continued  she, 
ft  that  I  am  so  weak,  I  am  sometimes  hardly  able  to  use 
my  voice  for  any  length  of  time ;  but  I  pray  with  my  heart 
continually ;  and  when  I  lie  awake  at  night,  this  is  my 
great  support  and  comfort.  I  think,  too,  at  such  times,  of 
many  texts  of  Scripture  which  I  know  by  heart,  and  they 
are  greatly  blessed  to  my  soul."  At  her  earnest  request,  I 
now  prayed  with  her,  and  was  much  struck  with  the  re- 
markable seriousness  and  fervour  with  which  she  joined  in 
my  petitions.  When  I  had  ended,  I  urged  upon  her  the 
duty  of  self  examination,  and  frequent  applications  to  the 
throne  of  grace  for  "  repentance  and  remission  of  sins  ;" 
and  was  about  to  leave  her,  when  the  physician,  who  was 
attending  her,  came  in.  After  he  had  visited  his  patient, 
I  inquired  his  opinion  of  her  case,  and  was  grieved  to  find 
that  he  entertained  no  expectation  of  her  recovery ; — griev- 
ed not  on  her  own  account — for  after  what  I  had  just  wit- 
nessed, I  could  not  but  believe  that  she  was  ripening  for 
heaven — but  for  her  husband,  and  her  infant,  who  were 
about  shortly  to  be  deprived  of  so  valuable  a  wife  and  mother ; 
and  for  myself,  who  was  likely  so  soon  to  lose  a  parishioner, 
whose  example,  were  she  spared,  might  prove  eminently 
beneficial  to  all  around  her.  Though  I  could  not  but  re'- 
gret  this  melancholy  prospect,  yet  joy  and  gratitude  were 
the  predominant  feelings  in  my  mind  on  leaving  the  cottage. 
I  had  entered  it  full  of  anxiety,  doubt,  and  apprehension ; 
fearing  that  I  should  only  find  fresh  cause  for  lamenting 
the  wretched  state  of  those  who  are  ignorant  of  themselves 
and  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  who  are  wholly  unprepared  for  a 
dying  bed.  I  quitted  it  not  only  relieved  of  this  burden, 
but  rejoicing  in  the  awakened,  humbled,  spiritual  frame  of 
mind  which  its  afflicted  inhabitant  discovered,  and  feeling 
inexpressibly  gratified  at  so  unexpected  a  result  of  rny  first 
parochial  visit.  Full  of  the  interesting  reflections  whic.li 
this  occurrence  had  excited  in  my  mind,  I  returned  home- 
wards. My  thoughts  were  chiefly  occupied  with  tlie  love 
of  God  in  the  redemption  of  a  ruined  world  :  in  the  suf- 
ferings and  death  of  his  only  begotten  Son  :  with  the  love 
of  that  gracious  Redeemer,  who  came  into  the  world  to  save 
sinners ;  with  the  grace  of  the  Hclv  Spirit  who  vouchsafes 


s 

to  apply  this  salvation  effectually  to  the  soul.  While  medi- 
tating on  these  sacred  and  inestimable  truths,  I  could  not 
help  thinking  how  superior  was  the  happiness  of  my  poor 
parishioner,  in  the  midst  of  all  her  poverty,  distress,  and 
pain,  to  that  of  the  wealthy,  the  prosperous,  and  the  gay, 
who  "live  without  God  in  the  world;"  who,  satisfied  with 
themselves  and  with  worldly  pleasures  "for  a  season," 
neglect  their  immortal  souls,  and  neither  seek  nor  desire  an 
interest  in  the  redemption  which  is  in  Christ  Jesus.  "  Sure- 
ly," thought  I,  "  one  thing  is  indeed  needful,  and  M has 

chosen  that  good  part  which  shall  never  be  taken  away 
from  her."  I  am  thankful  also  that  I  have  thus  early  been 
honoured  with  the  opportunity  of  ministering  to  the  edi- 
fication and  comfort  of  one,  who  will,  1  doubt  not,  prove 
an  heir  of  salvation. 

The  reader  will  readily  believe  that  I  did  not  long  delay 
a  second  visit  to  my  poor  parishioner.  Although  I  was  in 
a  great  measure  satisfied  as  to  her  sincerity,  and  could  not 
reasonably  doubt  that  ^he  was  a  child  of  God,  I  was  anx- 
ious to  ascertain  the  effects  of  my  first  visit,  and  to  admin- 
ister all  the  instructions  and  consolations  which  could  be 
crowded  within  the  apparently  short  remnant  of  her  days. 
Jt  was  on  the  following  sabbath  that  I  again  directed  my 
steps  to  the  village.  As  I  approached  it  "  the  sound  of 
the  church  going  bell"  was  collecting  my  little  congrega- 
tion. I  could  not  therefore  proceed  to  the  cottage,  till  I 
had  closed  the  morning  service,  and  dismissed  my  little 
ilock  with  that  impressive  and  truly  pastoral  blessing, 
which  it  were  to  be  wished  might  never  be  repeated  with- 
out the  fervour,  or  heard  without  the  interest,  which  it  so 
justly  deserves.  I  then  hastened  to  my  sick  parishioner. 
The  door  was  opened  to  me  by  her  husband,  a  remarkably 
fine  healthy  looking  young  man.  "  How  is  your  wife," 
said  I,  "  to  day  1"  "  Very  ill,  sir."  "  Worse  than  when  1 
saw  her  on  Thursday?"  "  Rather  weaker,  sir."  "  Shall  I 
walk  up  stairs  ?"  "  If  you  please,  sir ;  she  will  be  very 

glad  to  see  you."  M appeared  truly  so.  "I  am  sorry 

to  hear  that  you  feel  weaker  than  when  I  saw  you  last." 
"  I  do,  indeed,  sir  ;  but  it  is  the  will  of  God,  and  it  is  my 
sincere  desire  that  his  will,  and  not  mine,  should  be  done." 
"  Whatever  his  will  may  be,"  said  I,  "  be  assured  that  it  is 
the  best."  "  I  know,  sir,"  she  replied,  "  that  all  things 
work  together  for  good  to  them  that  love  God."  "  Do  you 


think  that  you  are  of  that  happy  number  1  "  I  cannot  but 
hope  so,  sir.  God  knows  that  I  love  him.  I  am  grieved 
that  I  have  not  served  him  as  I  ought,  and  that  I  cannot 
love  him  better  ;  but  I  often  think,  sir,  if  it  should  please 
God  to  spare  my  life,  and  raise  me  up  again,  how  careful 
I  will  be  not  to  offend  him — how  I  will  try  to  serve  and 
please  him."  "  I  trust  you  would  ;  but  since  you  have  not 
done  this,  as  you  ought,  before,  why  do  you  think  you 
should  do  so  hereafter  ?"  "  Sir,  I  know  that  my  heart  is  very 
weak  and  deceitful,  and  that  I  cannot  do  any  thing  good  of 
myself;  but  I  hope  I  have  learnt  much  trom  this  illness,  I 
see  the  vanity  of  every  thing  but  religion,  and  I  think  that, 
with  God's  assistance  I  should  lead  a  more  Christian  liie." 
"  Have  you  thought  much  of  what  I  said  to  you  when  I 
was  here  before  ?"  "  I  have  thought  of  little  else,  sir." 
"And  do  you  believe  that  your  repentance  for  your  past 
sins  is  quite  sincere?"  "  I  do  indeed  hope  that  it  is."  "  Do 
you  feel  any  real  sorrow  on  account  of  them,  and  any  in- 
ward hatred  and  dread  of  sin  ?"  "  I  think  I  feel,  sir,  some- 
thing of  that  broken  and  contrite  heart,  which  God  will  not 
despise."  Perceiving  unusual  symptoms  of  uneasiness  about 
her,  I  asked  her  if  she  was  much  in  pain.  "  Oh  yes,  sir, 
but  what  is  my  pain  to  that  which  my  Saviour  suffered 
upon  the  cross  ?  He  was  for  many  hours  upon  the  rack 
and  had  none  to  comfort  him  ;  but  I  have  deserved  a  great 
deal  more  than  I  suffer,  and  have  many  mercies."  Soon 
after  this,  her  husband  who  had  till  now  been  present,  left 

the  room,  when  I  took  the  opportunity  of  asking  M 

whether  he  thought  or  felt  in  any  manner  as  she  did  upon 
religious  subjects.  She  shook  her  head  at  this  question, 
and  sighed  as  she  answered,  "  I  wish  I  could  say  he  did,  sir; 
but  I  cannot — my  husband  is  a  very  sober,  honest,  well- 
behaved  man,  but  I  am  sorry  to  say  he  knows  but  little 
about  religion."  "  How  then,"  said  I,  "  came  you  to  think 
of  marrying  him  ?"  "  Because  I  was  a  vain  and  foolish  girl, 
sir ;  but  I  have  been  sorely  chastised  for  it.  I  have  known 
but  very  little  happiness  since  I  married.  My  husband, 
though  kind  and  civil,  has  never  liked  to  join  with  me  in 
living  as  Christians  should  ;  and  his  family  are  all  worldly 
people ;  and  living  so  close  to  them  I  have  been  greatly 
tried.  I  have  earnestly  desired  to  say,  with  Joshua,  "  As 
for  me  and  my  house  we  will  serve  the  Lord;"  but  when 
I  have  asked  my  husband  to  hear  me  read  the  Bible,  (for 

68 


20 

he  is  no  scholar  himself,)  he  would  only  tell  me  it  was 
enough  to  go  to  church  on  Sundays.  I  used  to  tell  my  hus- 
band that  we  could  not  expect  the  blessing  of  God  upon  us, 
if  we  did  not  worship  and  serve  him  ,  and  often  when  he  has 
been  going  to  lie  down  at  night,  without  prayer,  I  have  said 
to  him,  "  Oh  John,  how  can  you  go  to  rest  without  begging 
God's  forgiveness  and  protection !  Suppose  your  soul  should 
this  night  be  required  of  you!  do  you  think  you  should 
awake  in  heaven  ?"  "  Sometimes  when  I  have  spoken  thus, 
sir,  I  could  prevail  upon  him  to  pray  a  few  words ;  but  at 
other  times,  he  would  bid  me  hold  my  tongue  and  go  to  sleep. 
Oh !  sir,  I  cannot  tell  you  what  I  have  suffered  on  his  account ; 
and  his  family  are  all  of  the  same  way  of  thinking;  but  I 
hope  you  will  be  abie  to  do  them  some  good.  All  these  things 
have  made  them  not  very  kind  to  me ;  but  I  have  much  to 
be  forgiven  myself,  sir,  and  I  freely  forgive  them.  Indeed, 
weak  as  I  am,  I  would  go  down  upon  my  knees  to  every 
one  of  them,  if  I  could  do  them  any  good."  In  the  midst 
of  this  interesting  conversation,  we  were  interrupted  by 
the  arrival  of  two  of  her  sisters,  who  had  come  from  distant 
villages  to  see  her  They  were  considerably  older  than 
my  parishioner,  and  manifested  an  affectionate  concern  for 
her,  which  highly  gratified  me.  It  is  one  of  the  disadvan- 
tages of  poverty,  that  it  is  in  general  apt  to  chill  the  cur- 
rent of  the  social  and  domestic  feelings,  and  to  produce  a 
hardness  and  insensibility,  which  increase  rather  than  di-t 
minish  its  other  attendant  evils.  In  the  present  case  I  was 
delighted  to  observe  all  the  warmth  of  tenderness,  and 
liveliness  of  sympathy,  which  more  frequently  distinguish 
those  who  are  somewhat  elevated  above  the  lowest  rank 
of  life,  called  forth  into  exercise  towards  the  afflicted  sub- 
ject of  this  narrative.  After  the  first  inquiries  of  these  kind 
relatives  were  over,  I  was  about  to  propose  that  we  should 
unite  in  prayer,  when  my  parishioner  said  that  she  had  a 
particular  favour  to  beg  of  me.  "  What  is  that?"  said  I. 
"  You  know,  sir,  Friday  is  Christmas  day,  and  I  suppose 
you  will  administer  the  Lord's  supper.  I  have  been  looking 
forward  for  a  long  time  in  the  hope  that  I  should  be  well 
enough  to  go  to  church,  and  join  in  that  holy  communion. 

The  last  time,  sir,  I  ever  saw  Mr.  P ,  he  talked  to  me 

a  good  while  upon  the  subject,  and  gave  me  a  book  to  read 
upon  it.  Though  I  had  always  a  great  desire  to  receive  the 
JLord's  supper,  I  have  been  afraid  of  taking  it  unworthily. 


11 

JT  am  indeed  not  worthy  to  pick  np  tJic  crumbs  under 
my  Master's  table ;  but  Jesus  said,  "  Except  ye  eat  the  flesh 
and  drink  the  blood  of  the  Son  of  man  ye  have  no  life  in 
you."  "  True,"  said  I ;  "  but  do  you  think,  that  by  merely 
receiving  the  Lord's  supper  you  will  have  this  life  ?"  "  No, 
sir,  I  know  that  I  must  have  a  true  faith  in  Christ."  "  Yes, 
you  must  feed  on  him, '  in  your  heart,  by  faith  with  thanks- 
giving.' "  "  That  is  my  sincere  desire,  sir.  God  knows 
ho  a'  laniestttj  I  hare  longed  for  an  opportunity  of  going  to 

tin  Lord's  table.     You  know,,  sir,  Mr.  P was  taken  ill 

just  before  the  last  time  it  was  to  be  administered  in  our 
church,  and  I  have  been  confined  almost  ever  since ;  but 
now,  if  you  think  I  am  in  a  fit  state  to  receive  the  supper,  I 
should  feel  it  to  be  the  greatest  blessing  and  comfort,  if  you 
would  be  so  kind  as  to  give  it  to  me  on  Friday."  Upon  this,  I 
read  to  her  several  passages  of  Scripture,  together  with 
parts  of  the  communion  service  which  particularly  mention 
the  qualifications  of  acceptable  communicants  :  and'after 
(.•on versing  some  time  longer  on  the  subject,  and  telling  her 
that  I  should  willingly  comply  with  her  request  on  Christ- 
mas day,  I  asked  who  would  partake  of  it  with  her.  "  I  ex- 
pect," said  M — ,  "  that  my  poor  dear  mother  will  be  here, 
if  she  can  bear  the  journey  ;  and  she  will,  I  am  sure,  be  glad 
to  join  withme."  "  And  will  not  your  Initband  ?"  said  I,  who 
was  now  returned  to  the  sick  room.  "  Oh  !  how  I  wish  he 
would  come  and  embrace  his  Saviour,"  answered  his  wife. 
"  Will  you  not,  John '?"  I  reminded  him  that  he  must  soon 
part  with  his  dear  wife ;  and  that  by  joining  her  in  the  work 
of  religion  here,  he  would  enjoy  an  earnest  of  a  blessed 
union  hereafter.  "  I  am  in  great  trouble,'!  he  replied,  "  and 
scarcely  know  how  to  think  of  any  thing."  "  But/'  said  I, 
"you  should  at  least  think  of  religion,  for  it  is  God  only  who 
can  comfort  you  ;  and  the  illness  of  your  wife  is  a  call  to 
you  to  turn  to  him.  Jesus  also  invites  you,  now  that  you 
are  in  trouble,  to  come  to  him  for  rest."  He  seemed  t6 
feel  the  truth  of  what  I  said  ;  but  partly  from  ignorance, 
and  partly  from  that  corruption  which  always  opposes  the 
turning  of  the  heart  to  God,  he  held  back  from  saying  any 
i  hing  more.  How  common,  and  yet  how  lamentable  a  case 
is  this  ?  Men  neglect  and  refuse  to  make  God  their  friend  : 
and  when,  amid  the  various  changes  of  this  mortal  life,  they 
fall  into  distress,  they  know  not  what  to  do,  or  whither  to 
fl.ee  for  support  and  comfort.  I  closed  this  second  visit  bv 

68 


12 

praying  with  this  afflicted  party  assembled  in  the  sick  room. 

M joined  in  every  petition  with  a  degree  of  animation 

and  fervour  which  I  have  seldom  seen  surpassed,  and,  ex- 
pressed her  gratitude  in  a  manner  which  left  no  room  to 
doubt  the  reality  of  a  Divine  work  in  her  heart.  On 
leaving  the  room,  I  gave  her  a  copy  of  "  The  Dairyman's 
Daughter,"  thinking  that  she  might  derive  both  instruction 
and  comfort  from  a  history  which  exhibits  some  circum- 
stances very  similar  to  those  of  her  own  case.  I  was,  how- 
ever, agreeably  surprised  to  find  that  the  benevolent  phy- 
sician, whom  I  had  met  on  my  first  visit,  had  been  beforehand 
with  me  in  this  present.  "  I  have  contrived  to  read  part 

of  that  little  book,  sir,"  said  M "  though  not  without 

difficulty.  That  young  woman  died  of  the  disorder  which 
I  have.  She  was  a  true  Christian,  sir,  and  I  have  been 
much  comforted  by  many  things  that  are  related  of  her, 
God  grant  that  I  may  be  like  her."  "  I  trust,"  said  I, 
'•'  that  by  the  grace  of  God  you  will  be  like  her  both  living 
and  dying.  Fix  your  faith  and  love  on  the  same  gracious 
Saviour  in  whom  she  trusted,  and  you  will  enjoy  similar 
peace  and  consolation,  and  the  same  blessed  hope  of  eter- 
nal happiness !  God  bless  you  M ,  may  he  support, 

sanctify  and  comfort  you,  while  you  remain  here  below, 
and  make  you  daily  better  prepared  for  the  heavenly 
world."  "  God  bless  you,  sir,"  was  the  reply,  "  for  all 
your  kind  instructions  and  prayers.  I  cannot  tell  you  how 
much  they  have  comforted  me." 

About  two  days  after  my  second  visit  to  M ,  I  wa? 

told  that  some  one  from  S ,  the  village  in  which  she 

lived,  wished  to  see  me.  As  I  had  desired  her  to  send  for 
some  little  comforts,  which  her  humble  circumstances 
could  not  afford,  I  took  ibr  granted  that  this  was  her  mes- 
senger ;  but  instead  of  the  person  whom  I  expected  on  this 

errand,  I  was  surprised  to  find  that  it  was  M 's  mother. 

whom  my  reader  may  recollect  she  told  me  she  was  hoping 
shortly  to  see.  She  was  a  decent  looking  old  woman,  with 
an  air  of  peculiar  meekness  and  gravity,  and  apparently 
bending  more  under  the  weight  of  trouble  than  of  years. 
"  Pray  rest  yourself,"  said  I,  as  she  was  attempting  to  rise. 
"  You  must  be  tired,  after  your  long  walk."  "  A  little, 
sir,"  was  the  reply;  "  but  more  distressed  by  my  poor  dear 
daughter's  illness."  "How  is  she  to  day?"  "Very  ill 
indeed,  sir ;  she  cannot  hold  it  long.  T  think."  "  I  fear 


13 

riot,"  said  I i  <l  but  do  not  be  too  much  distressed.  Your 
daughter  is,  I  trust,  a  real  Christian,  and  preparing  for  a 
better  world  ?"  "Ah,  sir,  I  trust  she  is.  She  is  follow- 
ing her  dear  sister,  who  died  about  two  years  ago.  Thank 
God,  she  was  ready  to  go,  and  no  doubt  she  is  in  heaven ; 

and  my  poor  dear  M is  very  like  her ;  but  it  is  a  great 

affliction  to  lose  such  good  children  in  my  old  age."  "Il 
is,  indeed,"  I  replied ;  "  and  i  feel  much  for  you.  I 
have  lost  children,  too,  though  not  grown  up ;  but  although 
it  is  a  heavy  trial,  the  blessed  hope  of  their  being  happy  for 
ever  in  heaven  is  an  unspeakable  consolation.  Now  a? 
far  as  I  am  able  to  judge,  I  think  your  daughter  is  a  true- 
believer  in  Jesus  Christ,  and  interested  in  his  salvation/ 
"  It  is  a  great  comfort  to  me  to  hear  you  say  so,  sir.  In- 
deed I  do  think  so  myself.  She  was  always  inclined  to 
religion  from  a  child ;  but  she  has  attended  more  to  it 
within  the  last  two  or  three  years  than  ever."  "  She  ap- 
pears to  me,"  said  I,  "  to  be  in  a  very  hopeful  frame  of 
mind.  I  cannot  look  into  her  heart ;  but  if  she  is  sincere 
in  her  professions,  I  cannot  but  think  that  she  is  in  the 
Way  to  heaven."  "  Why,  to  be  sure,  sir,  as  you  say,  we 
cannot  look  into  the  heart ;  but  it  is  of  no  use  to  pretend 

to  religion,  if  we  are  not  sincere  in  it :  and  so  I  tell  M , 

and  indeed  I  think  she  is  sincere."  "  Pray  when  did  you 
come  to  see  your  daughter  V  "  Last  Sunday,  sir,  just  after 
you  left  her.  I  have  been  in  a  great  deal  of  trouble  about 
walking  over  on  the  sabbath ;  but  I  trust  the  Lord  will  for- 
give me,  if  I  did  wrong.  I  did  not  hear  till  then,  that  she 
was  so  ill,  and  put  offcoming  to  see  her  as  long  as  possible, 
for  the  journey  is  almost  too  much  for  me  at  my  age  ;  but  I 
was  afraid  I  should  hardly  see  her  alive,  if  I  did  not  set  oft' 
directly,  or  be  stopped  next  day  by  the  weather,  this  winter 
time ;  and  all  the  way  I  came,  my  thoughts  were  taken  up 
with  God  and  heavenly  things."  "  Indeed,"  said  I,  much 
struck  with  the  tenderness  of  conscience  displayed  by  the 
poor  old  woman,  "  1  think  this  is  a  case  in  which  God  would 
have  '  mercy  and  not  sacrifice.'  You  know  your  Saviour 
graciously  allows  us  to  perform  acts  of  necessity,  mercy,  and 
charity,  on  the  sabbath ;  and  I  doubt  not  that  he  freely  for- 
gives your  journey  to  see  your  poor  sick  daughter ,  especially 
as  you  seem  to  have  so  sincere  a  desire  to  serve  and  please 
him.  Pray  have  you  long  thought  so  seriously  upon  reli- 
gion V  "  Not  so  long,  sir,  as  I  could  wish  I  had.  The  for- 
es 2 


14 

.uicr  part  of  my  life  Was  too  much  taken  tip  with  the  <utre^r 
of  the  world,  and  the  labour  of  bringing  up  a  large  family ; 
but  I  had  much  affliction  of  late  years,  and  it  has  pleased 
God  to  teach  me  many  things  concerning  his  Son  Jesus 
Christ,  a<id  the  salvation  of  my  soul ;  and  I  bless  his  holy 
name  for  giving  me  the  opportunity,  in  my  old  age,  of 
attending  to  these  things."  "Is  your  husband  living?"  "Oh 
no,  sir ;  I  have  been  a  widow  some  years,  and  now  I  have  a 

very  comfortable  dwelling  in  an  alms  house  at  H , 

where  I  have  time  to  read  my  Bible,  and  think  of  my  latter 
end.  But  I  should  never  have  known  or  felt  so  much  about 

religion,  if  it  had  not  been  for  Mr.  N ,  the  minister  of 

our  parish.  Hejs  a  good  gentleman,  and  takes  a  deal  of 
pains  with  us  poor  people  both  in  the  pulpit  and  out  of  it 
He  was  of  great  use  to  my  daughters,  and  I  hope  one  of 
my  sons  is'turning  after  them."  "  Well,  my  aged  friend," 
I  replied,  "next  to  that  first  and  greatest  gift  of  his  Soil 
Jesus  Christ  to  be  our  Saviour,  God's  chief  mercy  to  us  is 
an  interest  in  iiim  for  ourselves ;  and  since  he  has  been 
pleased  to  bestow  this  unspeakable  blessing  upon  you  and 
your  poor  sick  daughter,  comfort  yourself  with  this  thought. 
He  has  done  more  even  for  your  present  happiness,  by  the 
gift  of  his  SOQ,  than  if  he  had  bestowed  the  whole  world 
upon  you  without  him ;  and  although  you  have  had  many 
"trials,  and  are  now  again  about  to  suffer  affliction,  in  the 
loss  of  another  of  your  children,  yet  be  assured,  that  ali 
these  things  are  wisely  and  graciously  ordered,  and  art- 
working  together  for  your  good.  A  time  will  shortly  come 
in  which  you  will  see  this  more  clearly — when  your  mourn- 
ing shall  be  turned  into  joy,  and  sorrow  and  sighing  shall 
flee  away  for  ever."  '  "  What  you  say,  sir,  greatly  comfort 
me,  and  I  am  truly  thankful  that  you  have  been  so  kind  ft» 
visit  my  daughter,  and  to  give  her  so  much  good  instruc- 
tion and  consolation.  I  understand  you  mean  to  adminis- 
ter the  Lord's  supper  to  her  on  Christmas  day.  She  talk? 
much  of  it,  and  is  very  anxious  to  receive  it."  "  That  is 
my  intention,"  said  I ;  "  and  I  hope  that  you  will  partake 
of  it  with  hejr,"  "  I  shall  be  very  glad  to  do  so.especially 
as  I  shall  not  be  able  to  be  at  church."  "  I  trust,"  I  addet?, 
v<  that  the  celebration  of  that  holy  ordinance  will  be  nweh 
Blessed  to  us  all,  particularly  to  your  daughter;  and  that 
Christ  m  iy  be  present  "'in  us  to  seal  his  dying  love  upoft 
ocx  ned*ts."  "  Indcf  d,  1  humbly  pray  that  He  raav  r>?', 


15 

4ir/J  The  good  old  woman  had  now  vested  herself  alter 
the  fatigue  of  her  walk,  and,  after  a  little  farther  refresh- 
jpaent,  prepared  to  return  to  her  daughter's  cottage.  1 
could  not  help  regarding  her  with  a  peculiar  pleasure 
Truly,  "the  hoary  head  is  a  crown  of  glory  if  it  be  found 
in  the  way  of  righteousness."  But  how  wretched  is  an 
old  age  of  carelessness,  worldliness,  and  irreligion !  On 
it,  even  if  the  outward  circumstances  be  ever  so  prosper- 
ous, death  must  indeed  heavily  fall,  "  and  double  terror 
own  ;"  while  to  the  aged  Christian  "  at  even  time  it  shall 
be  light."  Although  like  the  poor  and  afflicted  mother 
whom  I  have  been  just  describing,  we  may  be  called  upon 
to  part  from  the  dearest  objects  of  our  affections,  yet  the 
separation  will  be,  at  the  utmost,  but  short ;  and  the  re- 
union, if  previously  united  by  a  living  faith  to  the  Re* 
deemer,  unspeakably  delightful,  "  where  there  shall  be  no 
more  death,  neither  sorrow  nor  sighing:  neither  shall 
there  be  any  more  pain;  for  the  former  things"  shall  have 
"  passed  away."  . 

On  the  Friday  following  the  preceding  conversation  with 
M's.  mother,  being  Christmas  day,  I  repaired  to  my  village 
church  to  celebrate  that  truly  joyful  festival ;  and  to  unite 
with  it  the  commemoration  of  the  death  of  that  gracious 
Saviour,  at  the  recollection  of  whose  birti;  we  had  pre- 
viously rejoiced.  Although  the  morning  was  unusually 
cold,  the  beams  of  the  winter's  sun  were  bright  and  cheer- 
ing, and  seemed  to  hail  t';e  return  of  that  hallowed  season. 
in  which,  with  so  much  propriety,  we  are  invited  to  express 
our  gratitude  for  the  dawning  of  that  "  Day  Spring  from 
•n  high"  which  can  alone  "  guide  our  feet  into  the  way  ol 
peace."  My  little  flock  assembled  in  the  house  of  God  ; 
and  while  our  thanksgivings  and  prayers  ascended,  I  trust 
with  acceptance  before  the  throne  of  grace,  the  hearts  oi 
some  at  least  among  us  were,  I  hope,  wanned  by  our  medi- 
tations on  the  angelic  anthem  which  so  clearly  and  beau- 
tifully describes  the  blessed  effects  of  the  Saviour's  birth : 
"  Glory  to  God  in  the  highest,  and  on  earth  peace,  good 
will  towards  men."  The  table  of  the  Lord's  supper  wa> 
next  approached,  where,  in  unison  with  multitude 
brethren  throughout  the  world,  we  again  joined  in  that  ci* 
alted  hymn ;  and  together  with  our  praises  for  the  finished 
work  of  redemption,  offered  up  our  supplication  to  liijn 
ihat  sitteth  "  at  the  right  hand  of  God  the  Father"  to  "  hay.-- 


ie 

uiercy  upon  us,"  and  to  "  receive  our  prayers."  The  de- 
lightful service  of  the  sanctuary  being  thus  ended,  I  pro- 
ceeded to  the  cottage  of  ray  poor  sick  friend ;  and,  as  it 
was  very  near  the  church,  the  clerk  followed  with  the  sa- 
cred provisions  of  which  we  had  just  partaken  at  the  pub- 
Jic  communion, 

I  found  M.  anxiously  expecting  us.  Her  little  chamber 
had  been  made  as  neat  as  possible  for  the  occasion ;  and  in 
one  corner  of  it  a  napkin  was  spread  on  the  table,  at  which 
we  were  to  commemorate  the  last  supper  of  our  Lord. 
There  is  something  peculiarly  solemn  and  affecting  in 
every  celebration  of  this  holy  institution  ;  but  the  interest 
of  the  service  has  always  appeared  to  me  to  be  greatly 
heightened,  when  administered  to  the  sick  and  dying  Chris- 
tian. Much  as  these  sacred  mysteries  have  been  abused 
by  superstition,  and  vainly  relied  on  by  ignorance  and  self 
righteousness,  there  does  seem  to  me  to  be  an  eminent 
propriety  in  exhibiting  to  the  departing  believer,  "  Jesus 
Christ,  and  him  crucified,"  jn  the  evident  and  significant 
symbols  of  the  Lord's  supper.  The  weakness  of  nature, 
oppressed  by  mortal  disease  and  pain,  then  especially  re- 
quires the  assistance  of  these  outward  memorials  ;  and 
although  the  appetite  for  "  the  bread  which  perisheth," 
may  now  be  nearly  extinct ;  yet  the  desire  for  that  "  which 
camo  down  from  heaven,"  and  "  endureth  unto  everlasting 
life,"  which  "  the  Son  of  man  giveth,"  may  perhaps  be 
more  than  ever  lively  and  sincere.  The  Christian,  there^ 
fore,  entering  on  the  last  stage  of  his  earthly  pilgrimage, 
is  generally  and  justly  anxious  to  be  supplied  with  that 
sacred  provision,  which  is  to  cheer  his  fainting  spirits,  and 
to  support  his  weary  steps  in  the  dark  valley  of  the  shadow 
of  death.  With  this  blessed  table  spread  before  him,  and 
with  the  presence  and  guidance  of  the  great  Master  of  the 
feast,  he  fears  no  evil ;  his  rod  and  his  staff,  they  comfort 
him. 

It  was  under  these  impressions  that  I  met  and  found 
my  poor  parishioner.  To  my  inquiries  as  to  her  bodily 
health,  she  replied  that  she  felt  herself  rapidly  declining ; 
but  that  she  was  much  more  peaceful  and  happy  in  her 
mind  than  she  had  ever  been  before.  "  I  have  been  long- 
ing, sir,  for  this  day  to  come ;  for  I  can  truly  say  with  my 
Saviour  himself,  '  With  desire  have  I  desired  to  eat  this 
passover  before  I  suffer.'  "  '*!  rejoice  to  hear  you  say  soj1 


17 

fcuid  I  j  l(  and  now  let  us  pray  that  Christ  may  be  psesenj: 
with  us,  by  his  Spirit,  to  bless  us."  "  I  have  been  praying 
for  this,  sir,  before  you  came,  and  I  do  hope  and  believe 
that  he  will  be  with  us ;  for  I  come  to  him  as  a  poor  pe- 
rishing sinner,  and  put  my  .whole  trust  in  him  for  pardoji 
.•ind  salvation. ,  I  have  been  thinking  this  morning  of  his 
Jove  in  coming  down  from  heaven  to  save  us ;  and  how 
much  he  suffered,  that  we  might  not  perish,  but  have 
everlasting  life  ;  and  now  I  rejoice  in  this  opportunity  of 
receiving  the  memorials  of  his  broken  body  and  his  shed 
blood.  Ah  !  sir,  you  see  my  poor  husband  does  not  take 
it  with  me ;  but  I  earnestly  hope  that  when  I  am  gone_, 
God  will  give  him  grace  to  become  a  true  Christian." 

We  now  prepared  for  our  affecting  service.  M.,  her 
poor  aged  mother,  myself,  and  my  clerk,  were  alone  pre- 
sent. M.  desired  to  be  lifted  up  in  the  bed,  that  she  might 
join  in  the  communion  with  as  much  solemnity  and  atten- 
tion as  her  extreme  weakness  ivould  allow.  She  was  ac- 
cordingly supported  as  well  as  circumstances  admitted  j 
and  emaciated  as  she  was,  the  delusive  colour  in  her 
cheeks,  and  the  brilliancy  of  her  eyes,  animated  partly  by 
the  fatal  fire  of  disease,  and  partly  by  the  more  serene 
fervour  of  devotion,  rendered  her  an  interesting  object  of. 
contemplation.  "We  began  our  supplications  to  Him,  who 
corrects  those  whom  he  loves,  and  chastises  every  one 
whom  he  receives,  that  he  would  have  mercy  upon  her 
who  was  now  visited  by  his  hand,  grant  that  she  might 
take  her  sickness  patiently,  and  recover  her  bodily  health, 
(if  such  were  his  gracious  will,)  and  that  whensoever  her 
soul  should  depart  from  the  body,  it  might  be  without  spot 
presented  unto  Him  through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.  We 
read  the  consoling  admonition  of  the  apostle,  in  the  twelfth 
chapter  of  the  epistle  to  the  HebreAvs,  and  the  encourag- 
ing and  inestimable  declaration  of  our  Saviour,  in  the  fifth 
chapter  of  St.  John's  gospel :  "  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unt<* 
you,  he  that  heareth  my  word,  and  believetb  on  him  that 
sent  me,  hath  everlasting  life,  and  shall  not  come  into  con- 
demnation ;  but  is  passed  from  death  unto  life."  I  shaji 
not  soon  forget  the  devout  and  animated  look  of  gratitude 
which,  with  clasped  hands,  M.  directed  towards  heaven. 
While  I  pronounced  these  delightful  words.  I  must  no£; 
however,  detain  the  reader,  by  detailing  every  step  in  the 
progress  »f  this  interesting  service  ;,  ?uffico  it  to  say,  that 


IS 

my  poor  friend  joined  with  the  most  marked  and  lively 
devotion  in  every  part  of  it,  in  the  humbling  confession  of 
sin,  in  the  gracious  declarations  and  promises  of  forgive- 
ness through  faith  in  the  atoning  blood  of  our  Redeemer, 
and  in  the  glowing  ascriptions  of  praise  to  Almighty  God 
••'  for  his  unspeakable  gift."  The  solemn  and  heartfelt 
tone  in  which  she  confirmed  her  hope  of  eternal  salvation 
through  the  sacrifice  of  Christ  upon  the  cross,  as  she  re- 
ceived the  visible  emblems  of  his  body  and  blood,  and  the 
tokens  of  his  dying  love,  was  peculiarly  impressive,  and  sat- 
isfied me  that  she  was  indeed"  feeding  on  Him  in  her  heart, 
by  faith  with  thanksgiving."  Nor  was  the  deportment  of 
her  aged  mother  less  striking  and  edifying.  There  was 
in  her  a  mingled  air  of  grief,  submission,  and  devout  thank- 
fulness, which  encouraged  the  best  hopes  of  her  real  piety, 
and  greatly  added  to  the  solemnity  and  interest  of  this 
affecting  scene.  For  myself,  while  my  heart  was  lifted  up 
to  Him  whose  death  we  had  been  commemorating,  in  grati- 
tude and  praise  for  his  exceeding  great  love  in  thus  dying 
for  us,  and  in  instituting  these  holy  mysteries,  and  in  prayer 
for  the  sanctified  improvement  of  our  late  participation  in 
them,  I  could  truly  say,  "  Lord,  it  is  good  for  me  to  bo 
here."  So  thought  my  dying  parishioner  also ;  for,  as  I 
was  preparing  to  take  my  leave  of  her,  she  suddenly 
observed,  "  Oh  !  this  is  more  than  I  ever  felt  before.'* 
Fearing  that  her  exertion  in  sitting  up,  during  the  adminis 
tration  of  the  ordinance,  had  produced  some  additional 
uneasiness,  I  said  to  her,  "Is  it , pain  that  you  feel?" 
"  Oh  !  no,  sir  ;  comfort,  happiness,  such  as  I  never  before, 
experienced.  My  Saviour  is  indeed  with  me.  He  is  mine 
and  I  am  his.  I  cannot  doubt  that  he  will  forgive  and  save 
me.  He  knows  that  I  love  him  above  all  things,  and 
desire  to  be  with  him ;  but  I  am  willing  to  wait,  and  to 
suffer  whatever  he  pleases  to  put  upon  me ;  and  when  the 
holy  will  of  God  is  done,  I  hope  to  dwell  with  him  for  evei 
in  heaven.  I  am  truly  thankful,  sir.  for  this  blessed  ordi- 
nance and  have  now  but  little  more  to  do  or  wish  for  as  to 
this  world  ;  but  I  hope  you  will  come  and  see  me  as  long 
as  I  remain  here — that  will  be  a  great  comfort  to  me.  Do 
not  grieve,  my  dear  mother;,"  (perceiving  her  venerablf. 
parent  in  tears,)  "it  is  the  will  of  God,,  you  know,  that  my 

furney  should  be  so  short ;  but  blessed  be  his  holy  name,, 
feel  that  I  am  in  the  way  to  heaven,  and  there,  I  hope. 


19 

you  will  shortly  meet  me.     When  Mr.  N-       preached 

poor  Mr.  P 's  funeral  sermon],  sir,"  addressing  herself 

to  me,  ''  he  told  us  that  he  was  gone  to  see  the  King  of 
glory  ;  and  I  trust  I  am  going  to  see  him  also."  "  I  trust 
you  are,"  said  I,  "  and  rejoice  to  find  that  you  are  able  to 
look  forward  with  so  delightful  a  hope.  We  have  prayed 
for  this — and  now  1  only  hope  and  pray,  that  God  will 
continue  to  be  with  you  ;  that  he  will  sanctify  you  in  body,, 
soul  and  spirit,  and  preserve  you  to  his  heavenly  kingdom." 

Under  the  influence  of  these  feelings,  I  left  the  cottage 
of  my  poor,  sick  friend,  and  returned  home  with  an  in- 
creased conviction  of  the  infinite  value  of  the  gospel,  and 
still  more  firmly  persuaded,  by  all  that  I  had  just  seen  and 
felt,  that  it  is  the  grand  remedy  for  all  the  evils  under 
which  mankind  labour ;  that  it  can  give  peace  to  the  trou- 
bled conscience,  pardon  to  the  guilty,  rest  to  the  weary,, 
comfort  to  the  afflicted,  health  to  the  sick,  and  even  life  to> 
the  dead — that  it  is,  in  short,  what  the  apostle  well  de- 
scribes it,  "  the  power  of  God  unto  salvation  to  every  one 
that  believeth." 

But  I  must  begin  to  draw  towards  the  close  of  my  village, 
narrative.  Two  days  after  that  on  which  I  made  the  visit 

last  described,  I  again  saw  M .     During  this  short 

interval  her  disease  had  made  a  rapid  progress,  and  I 
plainly  perceived  that  it  would  soon  remove  her  from  a 
world  of  pain  and  sorrow.  Although  considerably  weaker, 
and  suffering  more  acutely  than  before,  she  expressed  the 
same  humble,  yet  joyful  hope  of  acceptance  through  hex 
Redeemer,  and  her  earnest  desire  "  to  depart  and  be  with 
Christ."  "  But  1  cannot  help  thinking,  sir,"  said  she, 
"  that  I  must  suffer  more  yet,  before  [  can  befit  for  heaven.'' 
•'  You  do  not  suppose,"  I  replied,  fearing  at  the  moment 
that  she  might  be  imagining  her  sufferings  to  be  in  some 
manner  meritorious,  "  that  the  pain  which  you  endure  can 
purchase  heaven,  or  in  itself  prove  profitable  to  you  1" 
"  Oh  no,  sir  ;  God  forbid  that  I  should  trust  in  any  thing 
for  salvation  but  the  meritsof  my  Saviour.  I  only  meant,  that 
as  I  was  a  very  sinful  creature,  and  deserve  to  be  afflicted,, 
and  had  found  the  benefit  of  pain  and  suffering,  in  wean-> 
ing  me  from  a  vain  and  vvoildly  life,  I  should  probably  have 
to  go  through  more  than  I  have  yet  suffered  ;  but  perhaps 
I  do  not  express  myself  as  I  ought."  "There  is  truth," 
said  I,  "  in  what  you  say.  You  know  the  scripture  says', 


18 

that  Christ  was  made  perfect  through  suffering ;  and  we 
Tnay  be  well  contented  to  be  like  him,  if  we  may  dwell 
with  him  for  ever  in  glory.  Every  member  of  Christ  is  in 
a  measure  conformed  or  made  like  to  him  in  suffering ; 
but  his  alone  was  meritorious— ours  is  intended  to  humble 
^nd  purify  us,  and  God  knows  best  how  much,  and  what 
kind  of  suffering  is  most  suited  to  sanctify  us.  He  will 
not  lay  upon  you  more  than  is  good  for  you,  or  more  than 
he  will  enable  you  to  bear.  Resign  yourself  to  him,  and 
&e  assured  that  he  will  support  you  in  every  trial;  and 
make  you  more  than  conqueror,  through  him  who  hath 
Foved  us."  "I  trust  he  will,  and  do  not  doubt  his  goodness, 
though  I  am  so  sinful  and  unworthy  a  creature."  After  a 

short  pause,  M continued,  "  I  am  glad  to  see  and 

hear  you  again,  sir,  for  my  poor  mother  was  obliged  to 
•?eave  me  yesterday,  and  the  neighbours  who  are  kind 
enough  to  come  and  see  me,  talk  almost  entirely  about 
worldly  things  ;  and  I  tell  them,  I  have  done  with  the 
\vorld,  and  only  wish  to  think  and  speak  of  what  concerns 
the  salvation  of  my  soul.  Indeed,  I  have  but  one  thing 
Which  gives  me  much  anxiety  ;  and  that  is  about  my  poor, 
dear  babe.  I  used  to  think  how  happy  I  should  be  when 
I  had  irn  ;  but  I  have  never  had  health  to  enjoy  him,  and 
now  I  must  very  soon  be  parted  from  him  for  ever  as  te 
this  world!  Poor,  dear  little  fellow,  I  can  resign  him 
cheerfully  sometimes,  when  he  is  away  from  me ;  but,  as 
soon  as  I  sec  him,  it  goes  to  my  very  heart."  "  I  do  not  doubt 
it,"  replied  I.  "  It  is,  indeed,  a  painful  task  for  you  to 
Jeave  him  so  young,  in  a  world  like  this,  but  his  father 
and  grandmother  will  no  doubt  be  kind  to  him,  and  take 
all  the  care  of  him  in  their  power,  and  he  shall  not  want 
a  friend.  Entrust  him  in  the  hands  of  your  heavenlv 
Pather.  He  will  take  him  up,  though  every  other  friend 
should  forsake  him,  and  will  not  suffer  him  to  want.  "  I 
have  been  young,"  said  the  psalmist,  "and  now  ara  old; 
yet  never  saw  I  the  righteous  forsaken,  nor  his  seed  beg- 
ging their  bread."  Hope  in  God,  that  as  he  had  blessed  you} 
so  he  will  also  bless  your  offspring.'1'  "  This  is  my  earnest 
grayer,  sir :  and  I  hope  God  will  enable  me  to  commit  ray- 
iself,  my  child,  and  my  husband,  into  his  hands,  to  do  a.s 
it  seemeth  good  in  his  sight."  My  poor  friend  was  so  much 
exhausted  by  her  exertion  during  this  conversation 
jltheigh  itwas  comparatively  a  short  one,  that!  was  obliges 


21 

to  close  my  visit  more  quickly  than  usual,  which  I  did  b/ 
reading  a  few  passages  of  Scripture  suited  to  her  state,  and! 
commending  her  in  prayer  to  the  mercy  and  grace  of  God! 
our  Saviour.  As  I  was  leaving  the  room,  she  repeated  her 
earnest  requests  that  I  would  remember  her  in  my  prayers., 
and  that  I  would  visit  her  during  the  short  remainder  ot" 
Jjer  earthly  pilgrimage ;  adding,  with  a  sort  of  prophetic 
feeling,  that  if  she  should  not  live  to  see  nie  again,  she 
trusted  that  through  the  merits  of  that  blessed  Redeemer, 
iu  whom  we  believed,  we  should  meet  in  heaven.  See 
\\er,  indeed,  again,  I  did  ;  but  I  regret  to  say,  that  it  was 
only  during  the  state  of  extreme  weakness  and  insensi- 
bility, into  which  she  suddenly  fell  a  few  days  after  my 
last  interview  with  her.  I  was  prevented  by  a  heavy  fall  of 
KIIOW  from  repeating  my  visit  till  the  following  sabbath ; 
when,  on  reaching  the  cottage,  I  learned,  to  my  disap- 
pointment and  sorrow,  that  her  powers  both  of  mind  and 
body  were  nearly  exhausted,  and  that  she  was  wholly 
unconscious  of  what  passed  around  her.  On  entering  her 
room,  I  found  that  it  was  indeed  so ;  and  in  contemplating 
the  decay  of  the  outward  form,  I  could  only  rejoice  that, 
I  had  witnessed  the  renewal  of  "  the  inward  man"  day  by 
day;  that  although  the  "earthly  house  of  her  tabernacle" 
was  nearly  dissolved,  there  was  such  solid  ground  for 
believing  that  she  would  shortly  inhabit  "  a  building  ot 
God,  a  house  not  made  with  hands,  eternal  in  the  heavens." 

The  mother  of  M not  having  been  able,  from  the 

fatigue  of  her  former  journey,  to  return  to  her,  I  could 
collect  but  little  from  those  who  attended  her,  of  the  frame 
of  her  mind  during  the  short  interval  of  sensibility  which 
followed  my  preceding  visit.  The  little,  however,  which 
J  did  gather,  was  pleasing  and  satisfactory.  I  found  that, 
being  aware  of  her  approaching  end,  she  called  for  her 
Husband  and  other  relatives  who  were  near,  and  took  a 
solemn  and  affectionate  farewell  of  them,  declaring,  iu 
humble  yet  forcible  terms,  her  reconciliation  with  Godr 
and  her  hope  of  salvation  through  faith  in  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  and  earnestly  exhorting  arid  beseeching  them  to 
flee  for  refuge  to  the  same  gracious  and  all  sufficient  Sa- 
viour. She  then  desired  to  see  her  little  boy,  and  com- 
mended him  to  the  protection  and  blessing  of  Almighty- 
God,  charging  her  husband  to  bring  him  up  in  "  the  nur- 
ture and  admonition  of  the  Lord ;"  and  having  aTjain  urged. 


22 

"tfiem  to  attend  to  the  things  which  belong  to  their  peace., 
•while  the  day  of  life  lasted,  she  said  that  she  had  nothing 
farther  to  do  in  this  world,  but  humbly  to  wait  for  the  time 
of  her  departure ,  adding,  that  she  prayed  to  be  entirely 
•patient  and  resigned,  and  hoped  that  I  should  see  her  once 
more  to  assist  her  in  preparing  for  her  last  trying  conflict. 
'This,  however,  I  was  prevented  by  her  unconscious  state 
#om  doing,  otherwise  than  by  my  prayers  in  her  behalf. 
After  I  left  her,  she  revived  only  for  a  few  moments,  during 
wnich  she  faintly  but  delightfully  repeated  her  faith  and 
liope  of  salvation  ;  and  soon  afterwards  slept  peacefully  in 
the  Lord  ;  leaving  on  the  minds  of  those  who  witnessed 
her  departure,  a  lively  impression  of  her  extraordinary 
piety  and  heavenly  happiness. 

The  funeral  of  my  poor  parishioner  took  place  on  the 
following  sabbath.  The  journey  was  too  great  to  allow 
&f  her  aged  parent  being  present ;  but  it  was  attended  by 
a  crowd  of  relatives,  who  testified,  by  their  grief  and  regret, 
the  affection  with  which  they  loved  her,  and  the  sincerity 
with  which  they  mourned  her  loss.  A  village  funeral  is 
always  solemn  and  affecting.  The  absence  of  that  osten- 
tatious and  misplaced  pomp,  which  accompanies  the  inter- 
ment of  the  great,  tends  at  once  to  soften  and  impress  the 
mind  ;  and  where,  as  in  the  present  instance,  a  well- 
grounded  hope  can  be  entertained  of  the  happiness  of  the 
departed,  the  contrast  between  the  consignment  of  the 
poor  remains  to  the  lowly  grave,  and  the  recollection  of  the 
heavenly  glory  to  which  the  emancipated  spirit  has  been 
exalted,  is  productive  of  feelings  and  reflections  of  the 
most  touching,  yet  animating  nature.  I  endeavoured  to 
improve  this  solemn  and  instructive  occasion,  from  the 
pulpit ;  and  trust,  that  our  meditations  on  the  frailty  of 
-man,  and  the  inestimable  value  of  that  word  of  the  Lord 
which  endureth  for  ever,  aud  which,  by  the  gospel,  is 
preached  unto  us,  were  not  altogether  in  vain. 

I  might  detain  the  reader  yet  longer  by  adding  some 
of  the  reflections  which  this  subject  has  suggested  to  me. 
But  I  will  only  repeat  that  the  preceding  memorial  affords, 
another  testimony  to  the  inestimable  value  of  the  gospel, 
which  thus  evidently  triumphed  over  poverty,  disease,  and 
•death  itself;  and  proved  the  source  of  pardon,  peace,  holi- 
ness, hope,  and  joy,  to  one  who  possessed  but  little  of  this 
v/prWs  goods,  and  who,  but  for  this  heavenjy  treasiire. 


23- 

would  have  been  poor  indeed  !  The  example,  too,  of  Cfiis 
•interesting  young  woman,  is  noj;  only  an  additional  evi-- 
dence  of  the  capability  of  those  who  are  in  the  lowesf 
ranks  of  life,  to  understand  and  receive  the  great  doctrines" 
of  the  gospel,  but  of  the  nature  and  efficacy  of  Divine 
teaching.  My  departed  parishioner  was  but  little  acquaint- 
ed with  human  forms  and  professions  of  religion.  She 
was  taught  and  drawn  of  God,  and  received,  with  the- 
simplicity  of  faith  and  love  that  engrafted  word  which  was 
able  to  save  her  soul.  While,  therefore,  I  would  particu- 
larly hold  out  the  example  of  her  piety,  as  an  encourage* 
%raent  to  my  clerical  brethren  to  persevere  in  their  parochial 
labours  and  to  hope  for  similar  proofs  of  the  power  and 
reality  of  religion  among  the  poor  of  their  flocks,  let  usr 
Whether  rich  or  poor,  whether  old  or  young,  diligently* 
inquire  as  to  the  nature  of  our  own  knowledge,  faith,  and 
practice.  Let  us  examine  the  foundation  upon  which  we 
are  building  our  hopes  of  sal  ation,  remembering  that  the 
hour  cannot  be  far  distant  which  will  try  its  stability  to 
the  utmost.  I  know  not  that  I  can  express  a  better  wish, 
than  that  we  may  all  possess  the  deep  humility,  firm  faith, 
animated  hope,  and  heavenly  temper,  which  I  beheld^  anil 
have  thus  imperfectly  described,  in  "the  Cottager's  wife;'7' 
tvho,  to  adopt  Cowper's  beautiful  lines, 

'•'  Just  knew,  and  knew  no  more,  her  Bible  true— 
A  truth  the  brilliant  Frenchman  never  knew  ; 
And  in  that  Charter  read,  with  sparkling  eyes 
Her  title  to  a  treasure  in  the  skies. 
Oh,  bless'd  effect  of  penury  and  want, 
The  seed  sown  there  how  vigorous  the  plant ' 
The  light  they  walk  by,  kindled  from  above, 
Shows  them  the  shortest  way  to  life  and  love, 
They,  strangers  to  the  controversial  field, 
Where  Deists,  always  foiled,  yet  scorned  to  yield! 
And  never  checked  by  what  impedes  the  wise, 
Believe,  rusk  forward,  and  poss&s  tJle  prize.'" 


HYMN. 

To  God,  the  Creator  of  all,. 

My  earliest  tribute  I  pay  ; 
On  him  with  humility  call, 

And  promise  his  laws  to  obey. 
J  promise,  alas  !  but  in  vain, 

Unless  he  his  Spirit  bestow, 
From  folly  and  sin  to  restrain, 

And  keep  me  wherever  I  go. 

Oh,  Father  of  mercies,  attend, 

(Though  now  I  in  ignorance  cry,) 
And  teach  me  on  him  to  depend, 

My  advocate  there  in  the  sky ; 
"Whatever  I  ask  in  the  name 

Of  Jesus,  I  hear  shall  be  done^ 
As  due  to  that  innocent  Lamb, 

As  claim'd  by  thine  heavenly  Son. 

To  me  thy  compassion  extend, 

For  the  sake  of  thy  heavenly  Son, 
From  Satan  and  sin  to  defend, 

And  a  world  full  of  evil  unknown. 
An  invisible  enemy's  power 

Ever  near  to  destroy  me  I  have,, 
A  lion  intent  to  devour ; 

Let  mercy  be  nearer  to  save. 
'That  mercy  I  languish  to  feel, 

If  mercy  infuse  the  desire, 
My  need  of  a  Saviour  reveal, 

My  soul  with  the  hunger  inspire ; 
Oh,  Father,  thy  child  now  allure, 

In  a  way  that  I  never  have  known, 
And  me  by  thy  Spirit  assure, 

That  mercy  and  Jesus  are  one. 


PBBtlSHED  ET  N.  BANGS   AND  J.  EMORY, 

y  of  the  Methodist  Epi 
ence  Office,  14  Crosby 

Azca:  Hoyt,  Printer. 


For  the  Tract  Society  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Cfturch  at  the" 
Conference  Office,  14  Crosby-street. 


NO.  69. 


CHRISTIAN  EDUCATION. 

AN  ADDRESS  TO  PARENTS,  BY  A  LADY. 


KNOWING  the  responsibility  of  your  situation  as  it  re- 
gards the  young  immortals  who  are  committed  to  your 
charge ;  and  desirous  of  adding  my ,  mite  to  the  useful 
labours  of  those  who  devote  their  thrfe  and  talents  to  the 
welfare  of  the  rising  generation;  I  have  with  much  prayer 
and  an  ardent  desire  that  it  may  be  nsefuj,  ventured  to 
address  a  few  pages  to  you  as  their  parents  and  protectors. 

It  will  be  readily  admitted  by  you,  that  the  present  life 
is  intended  as  a  preparation  for  that  gi^at  and  eternal 
state  of  being,  to  which  we  are  hastened  with  a  constant 
and  progressive  motion ;  and  as  it  is  your  wish  that  your 
children  should  be  borne  safely  down  the  stream  of  life 
to  the  haven  of  everlasting  repose — that  they  should  oc- 
cupy one  of  the  "  many  mansions,"  which  Christ  himself 
has  prepared  for  those  who  in  this  life  obtain  the  remis- 
sion of  their  sins ;  we  should  inquire  into  the  nature  of 
their  associations  in  that  blissful  existence  which  you 
fondly  hope  they  may  attain  hereafter ;  a  God  of  infinite 
purity — of  infinite  wisdom — of  infinite  holiness; — angels 
whose  high  destinies  are  to  do  his  will ; — saints  who  have 
conquered  the  lusts  of  the  flesh,  resisted  the  vain  and 
wicked  allurements  of  this  earth ; — and  martyrs  who  have 
triumphed  over  the  love  of  every  earthly  object,  and  who 
•'counted  not  even  their  own  lives  dear  unto  them,  so 
that  they  might  finish  their  course  with  joy  ;"  patriarchs, 
prophets,  and  apostles,  glowing  with  a  seraphic  flame,  and 
having  had  their  lips  "  touched  with  a  live  coal  from  off" 
the  altar ;"  men  of  every  language,  and  of  every  people  ; 
beings  esseetially  different  brought  together  by  one  theme, 
united  by  one  tie,  distinguished  by  one  feature — the  love 
of  God,  "  the  bond  of  perfectness,"  the  character  of 
devotion.  And  since  in  heaven  holiness  is  so  essential, 
since  it  gives  the  soul  a  meetness  of  her  Maker's  presence, 
how  important  it  is  that  you  bring  up  your  families  in  "  the 
nurture  and  the  admonition  of  the  Lord."  In  doing  this 
you  will  find  much  wit'h  which  to  combat ;  all  the  rrpr- 


versity  of  their  natural  dispositions  will  oppose  you ;  aS 
of  mere  human  policy  will  oppose  you,  and  the  world  of 
fashion,  with  its  thousand  votaries,  will  exclaim  again^ 
.you,  and  human  prudence  will  plead  for  her  exceptions, 
while  your  own  fallen  nature  will  aid  and  abet  all  that  the 
world,  with  its  many  enthusiasts,  and  fashion  with  her 
thousand  votaries,  and  human  prudence  with  her  cavilling 
exceptions  can  offer,  and  unless  divinely  supported  your 
hearts  will  yield,  tamely  yield  to  their  blandishments;  and 
instead  of  being  candidates  for  heaven  and  its  immortal 
glories,  your  offspring  will  be  candidates  merely  for  earth 
and  its  fain  perishable  honours;  and  instead  of  an  educa- 
tion for  eternity,  you  will  give  them  one  for  time  alone — 
short  fleeting  time ! 

I  need  not  prove  to  you  that  all  these  enemies  will  be 
raised  to  oppose  a  line  of  conduct  so  obviously  marked 
out  in  the  word  of  God,  for  you  know  that  "  the  whole 
world  lieth  in  wickedness,"  that  the  nature  of  your  chil- 
dren is  depraved,  that  your  own  heart  requires  the  strictest 
vigilance,  and  that  human  authority  has  swerved  from  the 
authority  of  God,  to  which,  in  many  points,  it  stands  in 
the  most  direct  opposition.  There  is  a  proneness  in  hu- 
man nature  to  view  the  small  portion  of  existence  which 
we  call  life,  as  detached  from  that  everksting  duration  to 
which  it  is  but  the  vestibule — contemplated  as  a  whole 
instead  of  a  short  but  important  part ;  the  value  of  things 
are  entirely  reversed,  the  things  of  time  and  of  sense  pre- 
dominate over  those  of  God  and  of  eternity :  the  body  also 
in  this  intellectual  chaos,  puts  in  its  exorbitant  claims 
upon  our  time  and  our  attention,  and  the  soul  pent  up 
within  its  narrow  cell,  is  not  permitted  to  expatiate  in 
those  fields  of  excellence  which  the  word  of  God  presents 
to  the  eye  of  faith.  There  is  a  narrowing  and  a  circum- 
scribing influence  abroad,  which  limits  us  to  earth  and 
binds  us  fast  in  adamantine  chains.  Therefore  from  the 
earliest  dawn  of  reason  teach  your  children  that  the  things 
of  time  are  important  only  as  they  refer  to  eternity ;  let 
them  know  that  "  the  things  which  are  seen  are  temporal, 
but  the  things  which  are  not  seen  are  eternal ;"  teach  them 
that  the  end  of  their  existence  is  not  to  do  their  own  will, 
but  to  "  work  out  their  salvation  with  fear  and  trem- 
bling ;"  knowing  that  it  is  "God  which  worketh  in  them, 
both  to  will  and  to  do  of  his  own  good  pleasure;"  let 


3 

them  feel  the  value  of  a  soul  for  which  Christ  has  died. 
Let  them  know  how  deeply  that  soul  must  have  been  pol- 
luted since  no  other  sacrifice  could  have  atoned  for  it,  or 
prevented  its  utter  ruin ;  teach  them  that  the  maxims  of 
the  world  are  inimical  to  the  way  of  the  Lord;  that  "God 
made  man  upright,  but  that  he  hath  sought  out  many  in- 
ventions ;"  that  "  we  all  of  us  are  by  nature  the  children 
of  wrath;"  that  the  "heart  is  deceitful  above  all  things, 
and  desperately  wicked ;"  that  "  all  we  like  sheep  have 
gone  astray,"  and  have  "turned  every  man  to  hisown  way." 
Tell  them  of  the  omnipresence  of  God;  let  them  consider 
him  as  a  Father  watching  over  them  continually,  and  de- 
lighting to  do  them  good ;  bid  them  refer  all  their  motives 
and  actions  to  him  as  their  omniscient  Judge :  be  his 
\vord  their  standard,  his  will  their  law,  and  think  not  that 
childhood  is  a  season  too  early  for  the  reception  of  such 
truths.  An  eloquent  and  impressive  writer,  *after  speak- 
ing of  the  contumacy  of  human  nature,  and  of  fl»e  constant 
efforts  which  are  necessary  in  order  to  its  subjugation  to 
human  authority,  says,  "Now  by  the  same  means  of  early 
discipline  and  example  by  which  we  were  brought  to 
acquiesce  in  the  government  of  our  parents,  the  mastery 
of  our  teachers,  and  the  authority  of  life's  forms  and  cus- 
toms, we  shall  most  likely  be  brought  to  acquiesce  in  the 
statutes  of  the  Lord.  Just  as  no  parent  who  would  wish 
his  child  to  be  a  well  doing  member  of  society,  would  for 
the  first  years  of  his  life  turn  him  adrift  from  counsel  and 
correction,  but  find  for  him  masters  to  instruct,  and  pat- 
terns to  copy  after,  adding  to  all,  the  influence  of  his  own 
parental  authority  and  affection ;  even  so,  if  you  would 
have  your  child  to  flourish  in  religious  life  you  must  not 
sequester  the  subject  of  religion  from  your  table  or  your 
household,  nor  keep  him  in  the  dark  till  he  arrive  at  years 
of  reflection  ;  but  from  the  first  dawn  of  thought  or  effort 
of  will,  teach  him  with  a  winning  voice  and  with  a  gentle 
hand;  lead  him  into  the  ways  of  God.  The  raw  opinion 
that  a  certain  maturity  of  judgment  must  be  tarried  for, 
before  entering  into  religious  conference  with  our  chil- 
dren, comes  of  that  notion  which  pervades  the  religious 
world,  that  religion  rests  upon  the  concoction  of  certain 
questions  in  theology,  to  which  mature  years  are  neces- 
sary ;  whereas  it  rests  upon  the  authority  of  God,  which 
a  child  can  comprehend  so  soon  as  it  can  the  authority  of 


its  father ;  the  love  of  Christ,  which  a  child  can  compre- 
hend so  soon  as  it  can  the  love  of  its  mother  :  the  assist- 
ance of  the  Spirit,  which  it  can  comprehend  so  soon  as  it 
is  alive  to  the  need  of  instruction  or  help  of  its  parents ; 
the  difference  between  right  and  wrong,  which  it  may  be 
taught  so  soon  as  it  can  perform  the  one  and  avoid  the 
other.  There  is  a  religion  of  childhood,  and  a  religion  of 
manhood ;  the  former  standing  mostly  in  authority,  the 
latter  in  authority  and  reason  conjoined ;  the  former  refer- 
ring chiefly  to  words  and  actions,  the  latter  embracing 
also  principles  and  sentiments.  But  because  you  cannot 
instil  into  children  the  full  maturity  of  religious  truth,  is 
no  more  argument  for  neglecting  to  travel  with  them  in 
religion,  than  it  would  be  to  refuse  teaching  them  obe- 
dience to  yourself  and  respect  to  others,  till  they  could 
comprehend  the  principles  on  which  parental  obedience 
and  friendly  respect  are  grounded."  And  surely  the 
Bible  gives*  more  than  its  sanction  to  this  early  instruction 
in  the  "  things  which  make  for  our  peace,"  and  in  the 
most  urgent  manner  ordains  that  you  shall  teach  God's 
law  "diligently  unto  your  children,  and  shalt  talk  of  them 
when  thou  sittest  in  thine  house,  and  when  thou  walkest 
by  the  way,  when  thou  liest  down,  and  when  thou  risest 
up,  and  thou  shalt  bind  them  for  a  sign  upon  thine  hand, 
and  they  shall  be  for  frontlets  between  thine  eyes,  and 
thou  shalt  write  them  upon  the  posts  of  thine  house,  and 
on  thy  gates."  And  since  the  end  of  Christian  education 
is  the  happiness  of  the  individual  throughout  his  whole 
duration, — since  that  happiness  must  consist  in  an  entire 
conformity  to  the  will  of  God, — I  would  ask  whether  a 
fashionable  education,  whose  professed  purpose,  it  is  to 
please  the  world,  conforms  with  this  nobler  end  ?  Whether 
it  will  retard  the  pursuit  of  the  "  one  thing  needful,"  or 
whether  the  two  principles  may  be  so  blended  in  the  edu- 
cation of  your  children,  that  they  may  glide  smoothly 
down  the  current,  their  sails  filled  by  the  breezy  admira- 
tion of  a  gay,  unthinking  multitude,  cheered  by  their 
applause,  joining  in  their  pursuits,  and  withal  keeping  the 
sacred  fire  burning  brightly  in  the  midst  of  their  vessel., 
with  the  anxious  caution  of  a  vestal's  vigil  ? 

In  pursuing  the  things  of  the  present  life  we  examine 
with  scrutiny  the  means  which  are  suggested  for  their 
attainment,  respecting  all  those  which  seem  even  of  a 


doubtful  nature :  and  in  the  things  of  eternity  shall  we  be 
less  circumspect;  and  shall  we  mingle  motives  and  sys- 
tems which  God  himself  has  separated?  does  not  his 
sacred  word  decide  this  question  at  once,  pronouncing 
the  "  friendship  of  the  world,  enmity  with  God,"  bidding 
us  not  to  be  "conformed  to  it"  but  to  be  "transformed  by 
the  renewing  of  our  minds;"  commanding  us  not  to  "love 
the  world  or  the  things  of  the  world,"  and  telling  us  that 
if  we  "  love  the  world  the  love  of  the  Father  is  not  in  us  ?" 
representing  the  Christian  life  as  a  warfare,  and  remind- 
ing us  that  "no  man  that  warreth  entangleth  himself  with 
the  affairs  of  this  life,  that  he  may  please  him  who  hath 
chosen  him  to  be  a  soldier?"  and  that  "the  weapons  of 
our  warfare  are  not  carnal,  but  mighty  through  God  to  the 
pulling  down  of  strong  holds,  casting  down  imaginations, 
and  every  thing  that  exalteth  itself  against  the  knowledge 
of  God  ?"  All  those  pursuits  whose  avowed  end  is  merely 
to  gain  the  applause  of  man,  I  should  reject ;  for  although 
many  actions,  studies,  and  accomplishments,  in  themselves 
commendable,  may  be  alloyed  by  the  motives  of  those  who 
"  seek  their  own,  not  the  things  of  Jesus  Christ,"  yet 
there  are  some  arts  which  are  incapable  of  being  rendered 
subservient  in  any  degree  to  the  knowledge  or  the  love  of 
God.  Among  these  I  should  class  dancing;  and  surely 
the  scenes  to  which  a  knowledge  of  this  art  is  the  prepa- 
ration are  more  than  negatively  wrong. 

Childish  and  trifling  as  dancing  schools  are  in  them- 
selves, they  are  but  the  precursors  of  still  greater  follies, 
and  more  ensnaring  vanities ;  and  instead  of  the  grateful 
relaxation  which,  after  unbending  the  mind  for  a  short 
space,  refits  it  for  the  exercise  of  all  its  energies  in  thai 
arduous  and  ascending,  yet  pleasant  and  healthful  path, 
it  disqualifies  it  for  aught  but  the  broad  descending  road  ; 
it  introduces  new  desires,  new  wants,  new  pleasures,  and 
reflections.  Oh  how  unsuited  to  the  word  of  truth  !  and 
it  stirs  within  the  latent  sparks  of  pride,  of  vanity,  and  of 
ambition,  which  it  is  the  duty  of  education  to  repress, 
and  which  it  is  the  work  of  the  Spirit  to  eradicate :  and 
their  own  will  and  the  will  of  man  claim  an  ascendency 
over  the  will  of  God ;  and  instead  of  referring  to  his  word 
as  their  text  book,  the  maxims  of  the  world  are  on  their 
lips ;  and  instead  of  remembering  that  the  eye  of  his  holi- 
ness is  ever  over  them,  they  but  remember  that  the  eye  of 


a  criticising  or  of  an  admiring  world  is  on  them ;  and  even 
when  the  amiable  or  the  modest  texture  of  their  charac- 
ters prevents  the  apparent  and  inordinate  love  of  admira- 
tion, which  is  but  too  distinguishing  a  trait  of  the  world's 
votary,  yet  the  spirit  of  the  gospel  is  forgotten.  Can  they 
remember  that  "  strait  is  the  gate  and  narrow  the  way 
that  leads  to  life,"  when  they  see  the  parent  to  whose  au- 
thority their  wills  have  bowed  leading  them  into  the  vani- 
ties, and  tempting  them  with  the  allurements  of  this  world 
and  its  many  snares  1  Can  they  indeed  believe,  that  they 
must  "  give  all  diligence  to  make  their  calling  and  elec- 
tion sure;"  that  "  forgetting  the  things  which  are  behind, 
and  reaching  forth  unto  those  things  which  are  before, 
they  must  press  towards  the  mark  of  the  prize  of  the  high 
calling  of  God  in  Christ  Jesus,"  when  they  observe  in  you 
such  an  anxiety  that  they  should  appear  well  unto  men  ! 
And  surely  with  our  natural  disposition  to  forget  God  we 
have  combatants  enough,  without  these  additional  incite- 
ments, and  these  additional  claims  upon  our  time  and  our 
attention;  why  then  should  we  endeavour  to  train  the 
youthful  mind  for  a  society  so  much  in  opposition  to  the 
society  of  heaven  ?  Why  should  we  lead  them  into  scenes 
in  which  the  name  of  God,  if  mentioned  at  all,  is  men- 
tioned in  vain  ?  Are  they  not  to  look  upon  themselves  as 
"  pilgrims  and  sojourners"  here,  journeying  to  a  "  better 
and  an  enduring"  country ;  and  will  you  teach  them  to 
build  tabernacles,  and  to  take  up  their  abode  (in  spirit  at 
least)  on  this  shifting  stage;  and  will  you  give  them  com- 
panions, who  if  they  have  any  influence,  must  retard  their 
progress  in  that  glorious  course  ? 

"  Pilgrims  who  journey  in  the  narrow  way, 
Should  go  as  little  cumber'd  as  they  may." 

And  instead  of  teaching  them  to  "lay  aside  every  weight" 
and  to  "  run  with  patience  the  race  set  before  them,"  will 
you  clog  their  feet,  fetter  their  limbs,  and  turn  them  aside 
from  the  "  King's  highway  ?"  or  think  you  that  the  scenes 
of  a  fashionable  life  are  calculated  to  open  in  them  any  of 
those  "  fruits  of  the  Spirit,"  which  St.  Paul  tell  us  "  are 
love,  joy,  peace,  long  suffering,  gentleness,  goodness,  faith, 
meekness,  temperance;"  or  will  they  assist  them  in  "con- 
quering the  flesh  with  the  affections  and  lusts?"  Will  they 
not  rather  make  them  "  desirous  of  vain  glory,  provoking 


one  another,  envying  one  another."  I  need  not  tell  you 
how  a  course  of  gay  dissipation  deadens  the  sensibilities  of 
our  nature;  who  has  not  witnessed  their  effects?  who  has 
not  sickened  at  the  heartlessness  of  those  who  mingled  in 
the  dance,  or  lent  their  voices  to  the  song,  while  the  gloom 
of  their  apparel  told  to  spectators  the  sad  state  of  man's 
mortality  ?  Nor  need  I  tell  you  that  such  scenes  have 
power  to  paralyze  the  efforts  of  genius ;  how  many  have 
you  seen  whose  talents  and  whose  conversation,  enriched 
by  the  recollected  lore  of  centuries,  have  degenerated  into 
the  vapid  anecdote,  or  the  tedious  detail  of  "  trifles  light 
as  air;"  and  although  these  fruits  of  bitterness  are  not  the 
invariable  consequences  of  a  fashionable  education,  yet  by 
lowering  the  standard  of  piety,  and  by  joining  what  God 
has  separated,  they  "choke  the  good  seed;" — by  intro- 
ducing into  life  lower  aims,  and  narrower  designs,  they 
expend  the  mind  on  trifles,  and  instead  of  being  a  creature 
devoted  to  the  service  of  his  Maker,  striving  with  all  the 
energies  of  a  renovated  soul  for  the  possession  of  never 
ending  felicity ;  man  becomes  a  poor  desultory  being, 
with  no  higher  end  than  his  own  pleasure,  no  greater 
reward  than  the  acquirement  of  this  world  and  its  transi- 
tory honours.  Suppose  him  to  attain  all  that  this  earth 
can  give,  with  manners  to  which  society  has  added  its 
highest  polish,  and  wit  to  which  mind  has  given  its  keen- 
est edge,  and  with  all  the  advantages  which  science  and 
accomplishment  have  to,  bestow,  superadd  those  which 
nature  can  give  of  sweetness  and  of  loveliness,  and  let 
this  finished  being  have  the  applause  he  has  merited  of 
man,  and  the  affections  that  will  cling  around  him  as  he 
journeys  onward ;  and  yet  without  Christ  he  is  undone — 
his  education  has  completed  him  only  for  a  momentary 
existence,  and  without  ensuring  his  happiness,  even  for 
one  moment,  it  has  left  him  perfectly  unprepared  for  eter- 
nity. "  The  right  and  the  wrong  of  things''  have  not. 
been  "  distinguished  with  reference  to  the  divine  com- 
mand, but  with  reference  to  the  opinion  of  others  and  the 
ways  of  the  world  :  excellence  has  not  been  urged  from 
the  approbation  of  God,  and  the  imitation  of  Christ,  and 
the  rewards  of  heaven ;  but  out  of  emulation  of  rivals, 
and  ambition  of  the  world's  places.  Companions  havo 
not  been  sought  according  to  their  piety,  their  virtue,  and 
their  general  worth,  but  according  to  their  rank  and  their 

69 


prospects  in  this  life."  The  disappointments  and  anxie- 
ties of  the  world  must  be  borne,  but  oh  how  grievous  to 
one  who  has  no  other  resource  !  forgetfulness,  and  mirth, 
and  philosophy  may  enable  him  either  to  forget  or  conceal 
his  cares  and  sorrows,  but  religion  alone  can  make  him 
look  beyond,  and  while  it  points  to  a  refuge  and  his  faith 
triumphs  at  the  sight,  and  his  well  grounded  hope  like 
"  an  anchor  to  the  soul  both  sure  and  steadfast  entereth 
into  that  within  the  veil,"  he  can  look  down  upon  the 
troubled  and  fluctuating  scene,  and  repose  all  his  care  in 
the  bosom  of  a  Saviour  who  first  cared  for  him.  Have 
the  princes  of  the  earth  any  thing  in  their  gift  so  valuable, 
even  to  this  life,  as  such  a  confidence  ? 

To  the  hearts  of  the  most  worldly  parents  I  would  ap- 
peal, and  let  them  ask  themselves,  whether  in  reviewing 
the  life  of  a  darling  and  deceased  child,  they  had  rather 
contemplate  her  as  the  gayest  and  most  fascinating  female 
in  the  ball  room,  surrounded  by  admirers,  conspicuously 
graceful  in  the  dance,  the  sweetest  voice  in  the  concert, 
and  as  the  most  elegant  at  the  festive  board ;  or  would 
you  rather  contemplate  her  as  the  humble  disciple  of 
Jesus,  following  him  through  "  evil  report,  and  through 
good  report  1"  Had  you  not  rather  think  of  her  early  de- 
votion, her  vesper  hymn,  her  sober  vigilance,  her  cheer- 
ful piety  ?  Had  you  not  rather  follow  her  in  her  walks  of 
usefulness,  contemplate  her  unostentatious  charities,  and 
if  you  sometimes  visit  her  silent  chamber,  does  not  her 
well  read  Bible,  pencilled  as  it  is  by  her  own  fair  hand, 
give  you  more  delight  than  could  a  gorgeous  wardrobe, 
which  would  remind  you,  not  of  her  present  felicity,  but 
of  the  trifling  pleasures  which,  with  her,  had  vanished  to 
be  no  more  seen  ?  And  oh,  if  she  had  left  still  more 
endearing  traces  of  herself, — if  her  letters  or  her  diary  yet 
remain  to  you, — how  will  you  prize  each  line  she  wrote 
which  can  now  assure  you  of  her  eternal  happiness  !  No 
sacrifices  which  she  made  to  God  will  now  be  the  subjects 
of  regret,  and  the  most  humble  walk,  and  the  most  lively 
faith,  and  the  most  glowing  devotion  will  not  seem  to  you 
now,  as  aught  but  the  themes  of  your  grateful  recollection. 

But  a  fashionable  education  is  not  necessary  to  refine- 
ment of  manners.  A  liberal  taste  and  good  society  may 
improve  them,  but  a  dancing  master  would  have  a  greater 
tendency  to  mar  than  to  complete  their  polish :  witness 


9 

die  numbers  which  he,  and  the  society  to  which  his  les- 
sons are  an  introduction,  have  made  both  frivolous  and 
affected.  Religion  does  not  banish  from  life  its  graces 
and  accomplishments,  but  by  giving  them  a  sure  founda- 
tion, renders  them  more  permanent  and  lovely.  In  the 
superficial  part  of  your  children's  education,  as  in  the 
solid,  all  should  be  grounded  on  the  approbation  of  God 
and  should  be  squared  by  his  unerring  rule ;  and  any 
accomplishment  which  will  enlarge  their  capacities,  and 
increase  their  opportunities  of  usefulness,  if  compatible 
with  the  situation,  circumstances,  and  leisure  of  your 
families,  and  with  the  consistency  of  your  own  character, 
may,  I  think,  be  innocently  afforded.  Have  any  of  your 
children  a  taste  for  music  ?  let  their  voices  and  their  in- 
struments be  attuned  to  His  praise  who  placed  them  in 
such  sweet  accord ;  do  they  evince  a  talent  for  design  in 
imitating  the  works  of  His  hand  1  let  them  learn  how 
wonderful  the  book  of  nature  is,  and  adore  the  mercy 
which,  not  satisfied  with  giving  to  the  place  of  their  short 
pilgrimage  all  things  necessary  to  their  comfort,  has  open- 
ed for  them  innumerable  avenues  of  pleasure,  painted  for 
them  a  thousand  living  landscapes,  and  pencilled  in  exqui- 
site detail  a  thousand  varied  flowers  to  lead  their  raptured 
minds  to  meditate  his  goodness;  and  in  the  many  graceful 
acts  of  domestic  life,  who  so  likely  to  excel  as  the  humble 
Christian,  whose  actions  arise  from  an  impulse  so  exalted 
as  the  love  of  God?  from  this,  as  from  a  well  spring,  issue 
a  thousand  rills  of  human  kindness  and  beneficence. — 
Who  so  graceful  as  her  who  is  "clothed  with  humility,'3 
and  adorned  with  the  "  incorruptible  ornament  of  a  meek 
and  quiet  spirit?"  Her  politeness  is  established  upon  that 
affectionate  good  will  which  the  precepts  of  the  gospel 
have  inculcated,  and  which  her  education  and  the  exam- 
ple of  her  parents  have  fostered :  from  her  Bible  she  has 
learned  to  "put  on  as  the  elect  of  God,  holy  and  beloved, 
bowels  of  mercies,  kindness,  humbleness  of  mind,  meek- 
ness, long  suffering,"  forbearance  and  forgiveness,  "to 
be  a  lover  of  hospitality,"  to  "  be  pitiful,"  and  to  "  be 
courteous ;"  her  love  is  "  without  dissimulation  ;"  "  she 
giveth  with  simplicity  ;"  "  showeth  mercy  with  cheerful- 
ness ;"  is  "  kindly  affectioned"  to  her  companions ;  "  dis- 
tributes to  the  necessities  of  the  saints,"  whom  in  honon' 
she  prefers  before  herself. 
69 


10 

But  the  most  polished  exterior  and  the  most  winning 
manners,  cannot  compensate  for  an  uncultivated  mind. 
God  has  given  to  your  children  faculties  to  improve,  and 
it  is  your  duty  to  fit  them  for  the  sphere  in  which  he  has 
been  pleased  to  place  them,  remembering  that  their  duty 
to  him  demands  that  they  should  act  wisely  towards  them- 
selves and  towards  their  fellow  creatures,  and  he  will 
require  from  them  an  account  of  all  the  talents  which  he 
has  committed  to  their  charge.  Human  science  may  be 
rendered  subservient  to  divine ;  and  whatever  time  and 
opportunities  are  afforded  them  by  Providence  diligently 
improve.  Think  not  that  a  vacant  mind  will  be  the  fittest 
soil  for  the  seeds  of  grace ;  there  is  no  field  so  sterile  as 
that  which  indolence  has  wasted ;  and  the  weeds  which 
idleness  matures  have  ever  been  the  most  noisome. — 
These  hours,  and  days,  and  months,  of  neglected  educa- 
tion, and  of  bad  example,  are  "  Glorious  opportunities  for 
the  despite  of  Satan  to  revel  in.  The  mind  impressible  as 
wax,  wandering  after  novelty,  and  thirsting  after  know- 
ledge of  good  and  ill,  unbound  by  habit  and  roving  in  its 
freedom,  from  within,  and  from  without  solicited  to  evil, 
in  this  the  spring  time  of  human  character,  when  ye,  the 
husbandmen  of  your  children's  minds,  should  be  labour- 
ing the  soil,  and  spreading  it  out  to  the  Sun  of  righteous- 
ness, and  sowing  it  with  the  seed  of  the  everlasting  word ; 
ye  are  leaving  it  waste  and  undefended  for  the  enemy  to 
enter  in  and  sow  it  with  the  tares  of  wickedness,  to  take 
root  and  flourish  and  choke  any  good  seed  which  the 
ministers  of  grace  may  chance  afterwards  to  scatter." — 
"  Give  the  enemy  the  spring  season,  and  you  generally 
give  him  the  summer,  the  autumn,  and  the  winter  of  life, 
with  all  eternity  to  boot;  but  tutor  your  children  in  the 
institutions  of  God,  with  a  constant  watchfulness,  and  a 
patient  perseverance,  beginning  with  restraint,  then  with 
soft  persuasion,  leading  on  then  with  arguments  of  duty 
and  interest  confirming ;  and  in  the  end,  habit,  which  at 
first  is  adverse,  will  turn  propitious,  and  the  blessing  of 
God,  promised  to  the  right  training  of  children,  will  keep 
them  from  leaving  his  paths  when  they  are  old."  Do 
you  think  with  compassion  on  the  ehild  thus  reared  ?  Oh 
you  know  not  the  happiness  which  such  an  education  af- 
fords their  childhood,  their  youth,  and  their  ripened  years. 
Should  some  lovely  and  beloved  child  refer  all  her  hopes 

69 


11 

and  wishes  to  your  will,  relying  on  your  tendernese,  (rust- 
ing in  your  promises,  confiding  in  your  care,  enjoying 
your  approbation  ;  think  you  that  this  child  would  be  less 
happy  than  the  one  who  made  his  own  will  and  the  will  of 
his  ill  chosen  companions  a  law  unto  him  ?  Would  not 
your  tenderness  be  her  support,  your  promised  rewards 
the  object  of  her  joyful  anticipation,  your  constant  solici- 
tude and  care  the  subjects  of  her  warmest  gratitude,  and 
your  approving  smile  be  her  continual  banquet?  Would 
not  her  little  heart  swell  with  rapture  as  she  thought  on  a 
lather's  fondness,  and  on  the  "  enduring  tenderness  of  a 
mother,"  and  if  separated  from  you  for  a  season,  would 
she  not  continue  to  make  your  will  her  principle  of  action, 
would  she  not  with  all  diligence  labour  to  surprise  you  by 
some  labour  of  love,  to  show,  that  though  absent  in  body, 
you  were  always  present  in  affectionate  remembrance, 
and  would  not  such  conduct  be  her  happiness  ?  but  sup- 
pose that  to  the  ordinary  affection  which  as  her  parent 
she  owed  you,  had  been  added  an  inexpressible  debt  of 
gratitude;  that  after  rescuing  her  from  misery  by  the 
most  astonishing  exertions,  and  by  the  deepest  sufferings, 
on  your  part,  you  had  left  her  for  a  short  time,  and  gone 
to  p'repare  for  her  a  place  of  permanent  joy  and  tranquil- 
lity. While  she  journeyed  onward  to  meet  you  at  that 
loved  abode,  would  she  not  find  in  your  unutterable  ten- 
derness, motives  to  a  renewed  attention  to  all  your  wishes ; 
and  in  the  contemplation  of  her  last  happy  reunion  with 
you,  never  to  part  again,  will  she  not  rejoice  with  a  joy 
unspeakable,  and  would  not  this  joy  impart  an  added 
pleasure  to  the  shade  that  refreshed,  the  fruits  that  invi- 
gorated, and  the  flowers  that  enlivened  her  homeward 
paths?  and  yet  she  would  not  loiter  in  the  forest,  or  wait 
to  accumulate  the  fruits,  and  gather  the  flowers  which 
you  had  scattered  for  her  pleasure  by  the  way ;  in  her 
fondness  for  these  gifts  could  she  forget  the  hand  that 
gave  ?  and  should  briers  impede  her  progress  and  thorns 
lacerate  her,  will  she  stay  to  murmur  and  repine,  and  re- 
trace her  steps  ?  Oh  no  !  but  a  few  hours  longer  and  she 
will  be  at  home  and  no  attempts  to  lure  her  from  the  path 
leading  to  that  bright  home  will  succeed.  But  oh  the 
depth  of  the  unsearchable  mercies  of  God  in  Christ  Jesus, 
which  as  far  transcend  human  comprehension,  as  they  db 
human  language  or  comparison ! 


12 
"  God  only  knows  the  love  of  God.)J 

And  if  the  Holy  Spirit,  blessing  the  means  you  use,  im- 
parts to  those  youthful  souls  the  sweet  assurance  that 
when  they  were  "  aliens  to  the  commonwealth  of  Israel, 
and  strangers  to  the  covenant  of  promise,  having  no  hope, 
and  without  God  in  the  world,"  "  He  so  loved  the  world, 
that  he  gave  his  only  begotten  Son,  that  whosoever  believ- 
eth  on  him  should  not  perish  but  have  everlasting  life ;" 
that  in  receiving  "  the  Spirit  of  adoption"  they  are  made 
"  heirs  of  God  and  joint  heirs  with  Christ," — heirs  to  an 
"  inheritance  incorruptible,  undefiled,  and  that  fadeth  not 
away ;"  having  such  "  great  and  precious  promises,"  of 
"  the  life  which  now  is,"  and  of  the  "  life  which  is  to 
come,"  shall  they  not  like  that  affectionate  and  confiding 
child  "  rejoice  evermore,"  and  while  his  love  heightens 
the  chance  of  every  earthly  blessing,  can  it  not  take  from 
every  earthly  care  its  sting  1 

Perhaps  as  Christians  the  sympathies  of  their  nature 
swell  to  a  finer  and  a  deeper  tone,  for  Christ  himself  in 
Diving  us  an  example  of  the  kindest  emotions,  and  the 
deepest  commiseration,  has  hallowed  them ;  yet  these 
feelings  of  humanity  and  affection  must  not  be  idly  ex- 
pended ;  but  by  rendering  them  useful  when  they  can  be 
so,  and  when  they  cannot  be  so ;  by  teaching  them  the  pa- 
tient endurance  of  suffering,  and  by  giving  them  "  strong 
consolation,"  the  word  of  God  and  the  power-  of  his  Spirit 
will  render  them  all  subservient  to  their  present  or  their 
eternal  well  being. 

"  And  could  we  make  our  doubts  remove,. 

Those  gloomy  doubts  that  rise, 
And  see  the  Canaan  that  we  love, 
With  undivided  eyes. 

"  Could  \ve  but  climb  where  Moses  stood, 

And  view  the  landscape  o'er, 
Not  Jordan's  stream,  nor  death's  cold  flood,, 
Should  fright  us  from  the  shore." 

It  is  the  inconsistency  of  Christians  which  renders  thejr 
efforts  in  education  so  unsuccessful.  How  many  a  pa- 
rent, who  would  shrink  from  entering  a  ball  room  or  a 
theatre,  decorate  the  younger  part  of  their  families,  an<J 
send  them  abroad  into  follies  and  snares  of  which  thena 


13 

selves  are  fearful ;  perhaps  they  even  urge  forward  reluct- 
ant victims  to  fashion  and  the  world.  Can  they  expect 
that  their  sage  remarks  on  the  world's  nothingness,  on 
the  vanity  of  its  fleeting  pleasures,  and  on  the  superiority 
of  religious  pursuit  occasionally,  or  even  habitually  given, 
will  remove  the  impression  which  such  inconsistency 
must  make  1 

To  their  young'  and  ardent  imaginations,  untaught  by 
experience,  and  absorbed  by  the  bright  unreal  anticipa- 
tions of  futurity,  you  give  the  worlds  enticements.  If  they 
advance  eagerly  in  pursuit  of  the  pleasures  to  which  you 
have  initiated  them,  you  lament  their  want  of  moderation ; 
if  after  the  midnight  ball  they  carelessly  enter  or  negligent- 
ly pass  the  house  of  devotion,  you  mourn  their  estrange- 
ment from  religion.  If  the  husbandman  had  scattered 
with  his  good  seed  an  equal  proportion  of  bad,  would  he 
have  a  right  to  lament  that  tares  had  sprung  up  and  choked 
the  expected  harvest  ?  And  when  God  in  mercy  lays  his 
afflicting  hand  upon  them,  and  disappointed  hope,  and 
blighted  expectation  sicken  the  heart,  how  does  the  mis- 
taken tenderness  of  the  mother  close  the  avenues  which 
the  love  of  God  had  opened,  and  push  back  her  child  into 
the  world,  that  from  its  "  broken  cisterns"  she  may  recruit 
her  wasted  spirits.  Is  she  not  giving  to  their  unhallowed 
nature  pleas  of  parental  authority  and  of  parental  example 
which  may  descend  to  future  generations  ?  And  in  that 
solemn  hour  when  the  secrets  of  all  hearts  shall  be  dis- 
closed, when  the  worldly  motive  concealed  perchance 
from  even  her  own  eye  shall  be  understood  by  all,  then 
how  many  may  lift  the  accusing  voice  against  her,  and  her 
reputed  piety,  and  her  rigid  observance  of  the  forms  of 
godliness,  shall  with  appalling  eagerness  be  brought  to 
excuse  those  whom  her  example  may  have  led  astray ;  and 
instead  of  many  rising  up  to  call  her  blessed,  many  will 
arise  to  mourn  the  day  when  she  with  all  the  charms  with 
•which  nature  had  endowed  her,  and  with  all  that  art  could 
bestow,  and  devotion  add,  to  give  her  high  repute,  en- 
snared their  souls  and  paved  their  way  to  their  utter  ruin, 

There  is  with  every  Christian  mother  an  important  crisis, 
when  the  decision  as  it  regards  the  education  of  her  chil- 
dren is  to  be  made:  if  worldly  motives  prevail,  she  know? 
not  how  soon  her  graces  may  vanish.  She  has  enlisted 
herself  on  the  world's  side,  her  example  is  quoted  as  higt 
69  2 


14 

authority  by  those  who  measure  themselves  not  by  the 
standard  of  the  gospel,  but  by  that  of  professing  Chris- 
tians. She  is  off  her  vantage  ground  ;  she  has  yielded  a 
'little,  and  will  probably  yield  more ;  and  as  she  descends 
into  the  plain,  false  lights  will  gleam  around  her;  the 
lights  of  fashion  and  of  wordly  wisdom,  and  the  mists  of 
error  and  of  prejudice,  by  which  the  prince  of  this  world 
encircles  its  inhabitants  will  encircle  her  also,  and  will 
conceal  the  bright  rays  of  the  Sun  of  righteousness,  and 
the  languid  frame  and  the  heavy  heart  will  now  accom- 
pany the  silent  hour  in  which  formerly  she  held  such 
sweet  communion  with  her  God. 

But  if  a  wiser  choice  decides  the  question,  if  with  a 
steadfast  faith  she  resist  the  temptations  of  her  wily  adver- 
sary, what  enjoyments  are  reserved  for  her !  she  beholds 
the  children  of  her  love  happy  in  the  possession  of  rational 
pleasures,  and  useful  employments ;  or  fortified  against  the 
ills  of  this  life  by  a  blessed  hope  of  immortality ;  (for  God 
will  sanctify  the  means  himself  has  appointed.)  Wealth, 
honour,  and  accomplishment,  will  be  viewed  by  them  as 
they  really  are,  poor  and  worthless  in  themselves;  only 
useful  as  they  enable  us  to  glorify  God,  by  rendering  them 
subservient  to  his  service.  The  hour  of  family  worship — 
of  social  enjoyment — the  round  of  daily  duty — and  above 
all,  the  sabbaths  of  the  Lord, 

"  Those  resting  bowers 
As  on  she  travels  in  the  narrow  way," 

will  give  her  a  constant  succession  of  calm  and  holy  plea- 
sures at  which  the  world  may  scoff  in  vain ;  and  though 
her  "  warfare  is"  not  yet  "  accomplished,"  though  she 
has  much  remaining  in  her  own  heart  to  weep  over,  she 
knows  in  whom  she  has  believed,  that  he  is  faithful  and 
true  to  forgive  her  sins  and  to  cleanse  her  from  all  un- 
righteousness. 

"  It  seems  at  last  experience  does  but  show 

What  sense  and  conscience  told  us  long  ago ; 

Besides  the  old  dispute  'twixt  heaven  and  earth, 

Proving  her  promise  to  be  little  worth  ; 

And  that  He  knew  our  hearts  and  wants,  who  spoke 

Of  a  light  burden  and  an  easy  yoke. 

Could  we  but  credit  heaven's  unerring  pen, 

We  need  not  wait  till  threescore  years  and  ten.'' 


15 

*  *  *  *  "He  says  his  ways  are  pleasant, — not  alone 
To  pure,  bright  spirits  bending  round  the  throne. 
But  pleasant,  peaceful,  suited  to  the  powers 
•Of  such  *^oor  sordid,  earthly  souls  as  ours  ; 
We  doubt — and  all  experience  claims  to  do, 
Is  simply  this — to  prove  the  statement  true." 


1  SAMUEL  ii,  24. 

The  fruit  of  your  indulgence  see, 

Whoe'er  iu  Eli's  footsteps  tread, 
Ye  curse  your  fondled  progeny, 

Ye  pull  destruction  on  their  head  ; 
The  wrath  of  an  almighty  Lord, 

Your  lenity's  effects,  they  feel : 
It  fattens  for  the  slaughtering  swordj 

It  softly  lets  them  down  to  hell. 


1  SAMUEL  ii,  26. 

Holy  child,  our  children  take, 

With  thyself  on  us  bestow'd, 
Partners  of  thy  nature  make, 

Bless  and  bring  them  up  for  God  ; 
Give  them  in  thy  grace  to  grow, 

Favourites  of  the  Deity, 
Favourites  of  thy  saints  below, 

Perfectly  conform'd  to  thee. 


ECCLESIASTES  xii,  1. 

Fain  would  I  in  my  earliest  days 

Be  mindful  of  my  God, 
My  God  who  made  m«  by  his  grace, 

And  bought  me  with  his  blood : 
That  young  I  may  observe  thy  word  ; 

And  not  in  age  depart, 
Come,  oh  my  dear  redeeming  Lord, 

And  dwell  within  my  heart. 


16 
CHRISTIAN  BENEVOLENCE. 

My  soul,  what  ought  I  to  have  done 
To  save  a  kinsman's  soul  from  wo  1 

Jg  there  a  toil  my  hands  should  shun  ? 
Answer,  my  heart — It  answers  no. 

What  have  I  done  lost  souls  to  save  1 
Ah  mem'ry !  little  can  I  trace ; 

Where  is  my  zeal  those  toils  to  brave, 
Though  all  is  claim'd  by  sov 'reign  grace  1 

What  can  I  do  ?  my  busy  mind 
Awake,  no  longer  lingering  lie ; 

Whilst  thou  art  still  in  ease  reclined, 
Thousands  of  sinners  hopeless  die ! 

What  am  I  bound  to  do  ?  Ah,  what, 
For  HIM,  who  saved  me  from  despair ! 

Shall  Calv'ry's  scene  be  e'er  forgot 
By  one  whose  soul  is  ransom 'd  there  1 

What  has  the  zeal  of  others  done, 
Nor  check 'd  by  toils,  nor  chains,  nor  seasl 

What  laurels  for  their  Master  won, 
While  I  enjoy  inglorious  ease  ? 

What  do  the  world  around  expect 
From  one  who  boasts  of  sins  forgiven  ? 

Shall  I  a  neighbour's  soul  neglect, 

When  taught  myself  the  way  to  heaven  ? 

What  when  I  tread  the  verge  of  death, 
Will  be  my  last,  my  anxious  cry  ? 

Would  I  had  spent  life's  fleeting  breath, 
Jesus  my  Lord  to  glorify. 

'Tis  not  too  late  ; — my  soul,  arise, 
The  pleasing  work  of  love  pursue ; — 

My  soul  on  aid  divine  relies, 

For  HIM  I  YET  may  something  do. 


PUBLISHED   BY    N.    BANGS   AND   3.    EMORY, 

F«r  the  Tract  Society  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  at  the  Gonferenc* 
Office,  14  Crosby-street,  New- York, 

A'.or  Hoyt,  Printer. 


HO.  70. 


SERMON, 


DEATH  OF  THE  REV.  JOHN  FLETCHER, 


BY  THE  RJEV.  JOHN  WESLET. 


"  Mark  the  perfect  man,  and  behold  the  upright,  for  the  end  or 
that  man  is  peace,"  Psalm  xixvii,  37. 

IN  the  preceding  verses  taken  together  with  this,  there 
is  a  beautiful  contrast,  between  the  death  of  a  wicked, 
and  that  of  a  good  man.  "  I  myself,''  says  the  Psalmist, 
"  have  seen  the  ungodly  in  great  power,  and  flourishing 
-ike  a  green  bay  tree.  I  went  by,  and,  lo  !  he  was  gone : 
I  sought  him,  but  his  place  could  no  where  be  found." 
Dost  thou  desire  to  be  found  happy,  both  in  life  and  in 
death  ?  Then  "  keep  innocency,  and  take  heed  unto  the 
thing  that  is  right :  for  that  shall  bring  a  man  peace  at 
the  last."  The  words  are  rendered  in  the  New  Trans- 
lation with  far  more  force  and  elegance.  "  Mark  the 
perfect  man,  and  behold  the  upright,  for  the  end  of  that 
man  is  peace."  It  is  not  improbable,  that  David,  while 
he  uttered  these  words,  had  a  particular  instance  before 
his  eyes.  Such  an  instance  was  that  of  the  great  and 
good  man,  whom  God  has  not  long  ago  taken  to  himself. 

In  discoursing  on  these  words,  I  purpose,  first,  briefly 
to  inquire,  who  is  the  person  here  spoken  of,  "  the  per- 
fect, the  upright  man  ?"  I  will  endeavour,  secondly,  to 
explain  the  promise,  "  That  shall  bring  a  man  peace  at  the 
last ;"  or,  as  it  is  expressed  in  the  other  version,  "  The 
end  of  that  man  is  peace."  I  will,  then,  with  the  divine 
ussistance,  show  a  little  more  at  large,  in  how  glorious  a 
mariner  this  was  fulfilled  in  the  end  of  that  "  perfect  and 
upright  man,"  who  has  been  lately  removed  from  us. 

I.  1.  I  am,  first,  briefly  to  inquire,  who  is  the  person 
that  is  here  spoken  of,  "  the  upright  and  perfect  man?" 


In  speaking  on  this  head,  I  shall  not  endeavour  to  describe 
the  character  of  an  upright  Jew ;  such  as  David  himself 
was,  or  any  of  those  holy  men  that  lived  under  the  Mosaic 
dispensation  :  it  more  nearly  imports  us  to  consider  such 
•an  upright  man,  as  are  those  that  live  under  the  Christian 
dispensation,  such  as  have  lived  and  died  since  "  life  and 
immortality  have  been  brought  to  light  by  the  gospel." 

2.  In  this  sense,  he  is  a  perfect  and  upright  man,  who 
believes  in  the  name  of  the  Son  of  God  :  he  is  one  in  whom 
it  has  pleased  the  Father  to  reveal   the  Son  of  his  love  < 
and  who,  consequently,  is  able  to  declare,  "  The  life  that 
I  now  live,  I  live  by  faith  in  the  Son  of  God,  who  loved 
me,  and  gave  himself  for  me'."    He  is  one  that  finds  "the 
Spirit  of  God  witnessing  with  his  spirit,  that  he  is  a  child 
of  God  :"  and  unto  whom  "  Jesus  Christ  is  made  of  God, 
•wisdom,   and   righteousness,  and  sanctification,  and  re- 
demption." 

3.  This  faith  will,  undoubtedly,  "  work  by  love."    Ac- 
cordingly every  Christian  believer  has  "  the  love  of  God 
shed  abroad  in  his  heart,  by  the  Holy  Ghost  which  is  given 
unto  him."     And  loving  God,  he  loves  his  brother  also' 
his  good  will  extends  to  every  child  of  man.     By  this,  as 
well  as  by  the  fruits  of  love,  lowliness,  meekness,  and 
resignation,  he  shows  that  there  is  the  same  "  mind  in  him 
which  was  in  Christ  Jesus." 

4.  As  to  his  outward  behaviour,  the  upright  Christian 
believer,  is  blameless  and  irreproachable.     He  is  holy,  as 
Christ  that  hath  called  him  is  holy,  in  all  manner  of  con- 
versation :  ever  labouring  to  have  a  conscience  void  of 
offence,  towards  God  and  towards  man.     He  not  only 
avoids  all  outward  sin,  but  "  abstains  from  all  appearance- 
of  evil."     He  steadily  walks  in  all  the  public  and  private 
ordinances  of  the  Lord  blameless.    He  is  zealous  of  good 
works;  as  he  hath  time,  doing  good,  in  every  kind  and 
degree,  to  all  men.     And  in  the  whole  course  of  his  life, 
lie  pursues  one  invariable  rule,  whether  lie  eat  or  drink, 
or  whatever  he  does,  to  do  all  to  the  glory  of  God. 

II.  And  surely  "  the  end  of  that  man  is  peace  :"  the 
meaning  of  which  words  we  are  now,  in  the  second  place, 
to  consider. 

I  do  not  conceive  this  immediately  to  refer  to  that  glo- 
rious peace,  which  is  prepared  for  him  in  the  preface  a? 
Ood  to  all  eternity;  but  rather  to  that  which  he  will  enjoy 


in  the  present  world,  before  his  spirit  returns  to-  God  that 
::;ive  it.  Neither  does  it  seem  directly  to  refer  to  outward 
peace,  or  deliverance  from  outward  trouble  :  although  it  is 
true,  many  good  men,  who  had  been  long  buffeted  by  ad- 
vs.T.-utVr  and  troubled  on  every  side,  have  experienced  an 
entire  deliverance  from  it,  and  enjoyed  a  remarkable  calm 
before  they  went  hence.  But  this  seems  chiefly  to  refer  to 
inward  peace,  even  that  "  peace  of  God  which  passeth  all 
understanding."  Therefore,  it  is  no  wonder,  that  it  can- 
not be  fully  and  adequately  expressed  in  human  language. 
Ylrc  can  only  say,  it  is  an  unspeakable  calmness  and  sere- 
nity of  spirit,  a  tranquillity  in  the  blood  of  Christ,  which' 
keeps  the  souls  of  believers,  in  their  latest  hour,  even  as 
a  garrison  keeps  a  city:  which  keeps  not  only  their  hearts, 
all  their  passions  and  affections,  but  also  their  minds,  all 
the  motions  of  their  understanding  and  imagination,  and 
:)11  the  workings  of  their  reason,  in  Christ  Jesus.  This 
peace  they  experienced  in  a  higher  or  lower  degree,  (sup- 
pose they  continued  in  the  faith,)  from  the  tii>c  they  first 
ibund  redemption  in  the  blood  of  Jesus,  even  the  forgive- 
Ticss  of  sins.  Cut  when  they  have  nearly  finished  their 
crrurse,  it  generally  flows  as  a  river,  even  in  such  a  degree. 
us  it  had  not  entered  into  their  hearts  to  conceive.  .A  re- 
markable instance  of  this,  out  of  a  thousand,  occurred 
many  years  ago.  Enoch  Williams,  one  of  the  first  of  our 
preachers  that  was  stationed  at  Cork,  (who  had  received 
this  peace  when  he  was  eleven  years  old,  and  had  never 
lost  it  for  an  hour,)  after  he  had  rejoiced  in  God  with  joy 
unspeakable,  during  the  whole  course  of  his  illness,  was 
loo  much  exhausted  to  speak  many  words,  but  just  said, 
"Peace!  peace!"  and  died. 

III.  So  was  the  Scripture  fulfilled.  But  it  was  far  more 
gloriously  fulfilled  in  that  late  eminent  servant  of  God  ;  as 
will  appear  if  we  consider  a  few  circumstances,  first  of  his 
life,  and  secondly,  of  his  triumphant  death. 

1.  Indeed  we  have,  as  yet,  but  a  very  imperfect  know- 
ledge of  his  life.  We  know  little  more  of  his  early  \\-ars, 
than  that  he  was  from  his  infancy  so  remarkably  regard- 
less of  food,  that  he  would  scarce  take  enough  to  sustain 
life  ;  and  that  he  had  always- much  of  the  fear  of  God,  and 
a  real  sense  of  religion.  He  was  born  September  12,  in 
the  year  1729,  at  Nyon,  in  Switzerland,  of  a  very  reputa- 
ble family.  lie  went  through  the  usual  course  of  academical 
70 


studies,  in  the  university  of  Geneva.  One  of  his  uncles, 
\vho  was,  at  that  time,  a  general  officer  in  the  imperial 
service,  then  invited  him  into  the  same  service,  promising 
to  procure  him  a  commission.  But  just  as  he  came  into 
Germany,  the  war  was  at  an  end.  Being  so  far  on  his 
way,  he  was  then  invited  into  Holland  by  another  uncle, 
who  had,  a  little  before,  been  desired,  by  a  correspondent 
in  England,  to  procure  a  tutor  for  a  gentleman's  sons. 
He  asked  Mr.  Fletcher  whether  he  were  willing  to  go  into 
England,  and  undertake  this  office  1  He  consented,  and 
accordingly  went  over  to  England,  and  took  the  care  of 
Mr.  Hill's  two  sons,  at  Tern  Hall,  in  Shropshire  :  and  ho 
continued  in  that  office,  till  the  young  gentlemen  went  to 
the  university. 

2.  When  Mr.  Hill  went  to  London,  to  attend  the  par- 
liament, he  took  his  lady  and  Mr.   Fletcher  with  him. 
While  they  were  dining  at  St.  Alban's,  he  walked  out 
into  the  town,  but  did  not  return,  till  the  coach  was  set 
out  for  London.     However,  a  saddle  horse  being  left,  he 
came  after,  and  overtook  them  the  same  evening.     Mrs- 
Hill  asking  him,  "  Why  he  stayed  behind  ?"  he  said,  "  I 
was  walking  through  the  market  place,  and  I  heard  a 
poor  old  woman  talk  so  sweetly  of  Jesus  Christ,  that  I 
knew  not  how  the  time  passed  away."   "  I  will  be  hanged," 
said  Mrs.  Hill,  '5  if  our  tutor  does  not  turn  Methodist  by 
and  by  !"     "  Methodist,  madam,"  said  he,  "  pray  what  is 
that?"    She  replied,  "Why,  the  Methodists  are  a  people 
that  do  nothing  but  pray.     They  are  praying  all  day  and 
all  night."     "Are  they?"  said  he;  "  then  with  the  help 
of  God  I  will  find  them  out,  if  they  be  above  ground." 
He  did,  not  long  after,  find  them  out,  and  had  his  desire, 
being  admitted  into  the  society.     While  he  was  in  town 
he  met  in  Mr.  Edwards's  class,  and  lost  no  opportunity  of 
meeting.     And   he   retained  a  peculiar  regard   for  Mr. 
Edwards  to  the  day  of  his  death. 

3.  It  was  not  long  before  he  wasrpressed  in  spirit  to  call 
sinners  to  repentance.     Seeing  the  world  all  around  him 
lying  in  wickedness,  he  found  an  earnest  desire, 

"  To  pluck  poor  brands  out  of  the  fire, 
To  snatcb  them  from  the  verge  of  hell." 

And  though  he  was  yet  far  from  being  perfect  in  the  Eng- 
lish tongue,  particularly  with  regard  to  the  pronunciation 
of  it,  yet  the  earnestness  with  which  he  spake,  seldom  to 


DC  seen  in  England,  and  the  unspeakable  tender  affection 
which  breathed  in  every  word  and  gesture  to  poor,  lost 
sinners,  made  so  deep  an  impression  on  all  that  heard,  that 
very  few  went  empty  away. 

4.  About  the  year  1753,  (being  now  of  a  sufficient  age,) 
he  was  ordained  deacon  and  priest,  and  soon  after  pre- 
sented  to   the  little  living  of  Madeley,  in   Shropshire. 
This,  he  had  frequently  said,  was  the  only  living  which 
he  ever  desired  to  have.     He  was  ordained  at  Whitehall, 
and  the  same  day,  being  informed  that  I  had  no  one  to 
assist  me  at  West-street  chapel,  he  came  away  as  soon  as 
ever  the  ordination  was  over,  and  assisted  me  in  the  ad- 
ministration of  the  Lord's  supper.      And  he  was  now 
doubly  diligent  in  preaching,  not  only  in  the  chapels  d 
West-street  and  Spitalfields,  but  wherever  the  providence 
of  God  opened  a  door  to  proclaim  the  everlasting  gospel. 
This  he  did  frequently  in  French,  (as  well  as  in  Eng- 
lish,) of  which  all  judges  allowed  him  to  be  a  complete 
master. 

5.  Hence  he  removed  into  the  vicarage  house  at  Made- 
ley.    Here  he  was  fully  employed  among  his  parishioners, 
both  in  the  town  and  in  Madeley  Wood,  a  mile  or  two 
from   it,   a  place   much  resembling  Kingswood,   almost 
wholly  inhabited,  by  poor   colliers,  and  their  numerous 
families.    These  forlorn  one':,  (little  wiser  thair'the  beasts 
that  perish,)  he  took  great  pains  to  reform  and  instruct. 
And  they  are  now  as  judicious  and  as  well  behaved  a 
people,  as  most  of  their  station  in  the  three  kingdoms. 

6.  But  some  time  after,  he  .was  prevailed  upon  by  the 
countess  of  Huntingdon,  occasionally  to  quit  his  beloved 
retreat,  and  visit  Wales,  in  order  to  superintend  her  school 
at  Trevecka.    This  he  did,  with  all  his  power,  instructii!.'; 
the  young  men,  chiefly  in  experimental  and  practical  divi- 
nity: till  he  received  a  letter  from  the  countess,  in  whicl;, 
her  ladyship  declared,  that  all  who  did  not  absolutely  re- 
nounce those  eight  propositions,  which  were  contained  hi 
the  minutes  of  the  conference  for  1770,  must  immediately 
leave  her  house.    Mr.  Fletcher  was  exceedingly  surprised 
at  this  peremptory  declaration.     He  spent  the  next  day  in 
fasting  and  prayer,  and  in  the  evening  wrote  to  her  lady- 
ship, that  he  not  only  could  not  utterly  renounce,  but 
must  entirely  approve  of  all  those  eight  propositions,  and 
therefore  had  obeyed  her  order,  by  leaving  her  house,  and 


6 

returning  to  his  own  at  Madeley.  A  little  after  this  the  cir- 
cular  letter  appeared,  signed  by  Mr.  Shirley,  summoning 
all  that  feared  God,  in  England,  to  meet  together  at  Bris- 
tol, at  the  time  of  the  Methodist  conference,  "  in  order  to 
bear  testimony  against  the  dreadful  heresy  contained  in 
the  minutes  of  the  preceding  conference." 

7.  That  circular  letter  was  the  happy  occasion  of  his 
writing  those  excellent  Checks  to  Antinomianism,  in  which 
one  knows  not  which  to  admire  most,  the  purity  of  the 
language,  (such  as  a  foreigner  scarcely  ever  wrote  before,) 
the  strength  and  clearness  of  the  argument,  or  the  mild- 
ness and  sweetness  of  the  spirit,  which  breathes  through- 
out the  whole.     Insomuch,  that  I  nothing  wonder  at  a 
clergyman  that  was  resolved  never  to  part  with  his  dear 
decrees,  who  being  pressed  to  read  them,  replied,  "  No, 
I  will  never  read  Mr.  Fletcher's  writings;  for  if  I  did,  I 
should  be  of  his  mind."    He  now,  likewise,  wrote  several 
other  valuable  tracts.     Meantime,  he  was  more  abundant 
in  his  ministerial  labours,  both  in  public  and  private,  visit- 
ing his  whole  parish,  early  and  late,  in  all  weathers,  re- 
garfling  neither  heat  nor  cold,  rain  nor  snow,  whether  he 
\vas  on  horseback  or  on  foot.    But  this  insensibly  weaken- 
ed his  constitution,  and  sapped  the  foundation  of  his  health; 
which  was  still  more  effectually  done,  by  his  intense  and 
uninterrupted  studies :  at  which  he  frequently  continued 
with  scarce  any  intermission,  fourteen,  fifteen,  or  sixteen 
hours  a  day.     Meantime,  he  did  not  allow  himself  neces- 
sary food :  he  seldom  took  any  regular  meals,  unless  he 
had  company  :  but  twice  or  thrice  in  four  and  twenty  hours 
ate  some  bread  and  cheese,  or  fruit :  instead  of  which  he 
took  a  draught  of  milk,  and  then  wrote  again. 

8.  Being  informed  that  his  health  was  greatly  impaired, 
I  judged  nothing  was  so  likely  to  restore  it  as  a  long  jour- 
ney.    So  I  proposed  his  taking  a  journey  with  me  into 
Scotland,  to  which  he  willingly  consented.     We  set  out 
in  spring,  and  after  travelling  eleven  or  twelve  hundred 
miles,  returned  to  London  in  autnmn.     I  verily  believe. 
had  he  travelled  with  me  a  few  months  longer,  he  would 
have  quite  recovered  his  health.     But,  being  stopped  by 
his  friends,  he  quickly  relapsed,  and  fell  into  a  true  pul- 
monary consumption. 

9.  But  this  sickness  was  not  unto  death.     It  was  only 
sent  that  the  glory  of  the  Lord  might  appear.   For  upwards 

70     . 


of  four  months  he  resided  at  Nevvington,  and  was  visited 
by  persons  of  all  ranks.  And  they  all  marvelled  at  the 
grace  of  God  that  was  in  him.  In  all  his  pain,  no  com- 
plaint came  out  of  his  mouth :  but  his  every  breath  was 
spent,  either  in  praising  God,  or  exhorting  and  comforting 
his  neighbour. 

10.  When  nothing  else  availed,  he  was  advised  to  take 
a  journey  by  sea  and  by  land  into  his  own  country.     He 
did  this,  in  company  with  Mr.  Ireland,  a  well  tried  and 
faithful  friend,  who  loved  him  as  a  brother,  and  thought 
ro  pains  ill  bestowed,  if  he  could  preserve  so  valuable  a 
life.     He  remained  partly  in  the  south  of  France,  and 
partly  in  his  own  country,  upwards  of  three  years,  and  was 
a  blessing  to  all  that  were  round  about  him.    Being  much 
recovered,  in  the  summer  of  1781,  he  returned  in  good 
health  to  Madeley. 

11.  In  the  month  of  November  of  tha*  year,  with  the 
full  approbation  of  all  his  friends,  he  married  Miss  Bosan- 
quet :  of  whom,  as  she  is  still  alive,  I  say  no  more  at  pre- 
sent, than  that  she  was  the  only  person  in  England,  whom 
I  judged  to  be  worthy  of  Mr.  Fletcher.    By  her  tender  and 
judicious  care,  his  health  was  confirmed  more  and  more. 
And  I  am  firmly  convinced  that  had  he  used  this  health, 
in  travelling  all  over  the  kingdom,  five,  or  six,  or  seven 
months  every  year,  (for  which  never  was  man  more  emi- 
nently  qualified;    no,   not    Mr.  Whitefield    himself,)    he 
vould  have  done  more  good;  than  any  other  man  in  Eng- 
land.    I  cannot  doubt  but  this  would  have  been  the  more 
excellent  way.     However,  though  he  did  not  accept  of 
this  honour,  he  did  abundance  of  good  in  that  narrower 
sphere  of  action  which  he  chose  :  and  was  a  pattern  well 
worthy  the  imitation  of  all  the  parochial  ministers  in  the 
kingdom. 

12.  His  manner  of  life  during  the  time  that  he  and  his 
wife  lived  together,  it  may  be  most  satisfactory  to  give  in 
hc-r  own  words. 

t:  It  is  no  little  grief  to  me,  that  my  dearly  beloved  hus- 
Innd  has  left  no  account  of  himself  in  writing.  And  I  am 
not  able  to  give  many  particulars  of  a  life  the  most  angeli- 
ca! I  have  ever  known. 

"  He  was  born  at  Nyon,  in  the  canton  of  Berne,  in 
Switzerland.  In  his  infancy  he  discovered  a  lively  genius, 
and  great  tenderness  of  heart.  One  day,  having  offended 


s 

his  father,  who  threatened  to  correct  him,  he  kept  himself 
at  a  distance  in  the  garden,  till  seeing  his  father  approach, 
and  fearing  his  anger  would  be  renewed  by  the  sight  of 
him,  he  ran  away.  But  he  was  presently  struck  with  deep 
remorse,  thinking,  '  What !  do  I  run  away  from  ray  father  ? 
What  a  wicked  wretch  !  It  may  be  I  may  live  to  grow  up 
and  have  a  son  that  will  run  away  from  me !'  And  it  was 
some  years  before  the  impression  of  sorrow,  then  made 
upon  him,  wore  off. 

"  When  he  was  about  seven  years  old,  he  was  re- 
proved by  his  nurse  maid,  saying,  '  You  are  a  naughty 
boy,  and  the  devil  takes  all  such.'  After  he  was  in  bed, 
he  began  to  refleet  on  her  words,  his  heart  smote  him, 
and  he  said,  '  I  am  a  naughty  boy,  and  perhaps  God  will 
let  the  devil  fetch  me  away.'  He  got  upon  the  bed,  and 
for  a  considerable  time,  wrestled  with  God  in  prayer, 
till  he  felt  suoh  a  sense  of  the  love  of  God,  as  made  him 
quite  easy. 

[Part  of  the  next  paragraph  I  omit,  being  nearly  the 
same  with  what  I  inserted  before.] 

"  Wh'en  he  entered  Mr.  Hill's  family,  he  did  not  know 
Christ  in  his  heart.  One  Sunday  evening,  as  he  was 
writing  some  music,  the  servant  came  in  to  make  up  the 
fire,  and  looking  at  him.,  said,  '  Sir,  I  am  very  sorry  to  see 
you  so  employed  on  the  Lord's  day.'  He  immediately 
put  away  his  music,  and,  from  that  hour,  became  a  strict 
observer  of  that  holy  day. 

"  JNfot  long  after,  he  met  with  a  person,  who  asked  him 
to  go  with  her  and  hear  the  Methodists.  He  readily  con- 
sented. The  more  he  heard,  the  more  uneasy  he  grew  : 
.and  doubling  his  diligence,  he  hoped  by  doins;  muck  to 
render  himself  acceptable  to  God :  till  one  d!y  hearing 
Mr.  Green,  he  was  convinced  he  did  not  know  what  true 
faith  was.  This  occasioned  many  reflections  in  his  mind. 
'  Is  it  possible  (said  he)  that  I  who  have  made  divinity  my 
study,  and  have  received  the  premium  of  piety  (so  called, 
from  the  university)  for  my  writings  on  divine  subjects ; 
that  I  should  still  be  so  ignorant,  as  not  to  know  what 
faith  is  ?'  But  the  more  he  examined,  the  more  he  was 
convinced :  then  sin  revived,  and  hope  died  away.  Ii« 
now  sought,  by  the  most  rigorous  austerities,  to  conouer 
an  evil  nature,  and  bring  heaven  born  peace  into  his 
soul.  But  the  more  he  struggled,  the  more  he  was  con- 


vinced,  that  all  his  fallen  soul  was  sin,  and  that  nothing 
but  a  revelation  of  the  love  of  Jesus,  could  make  him  a 
Christian.  For  this  he  groaned  with  unwearied  assiduity : 
till  one  day,  after  much  wrestling  with  God,  lying  pros- 
trate on  his  face  before  the  throne,  he  felt  the  application 
of  the  blood  of  Jesus.  Now  his  bonds  were  broken,  and 
his  free  soul 'began  to  breathe  a  pure  air.  Sin  was  be- 
neath hi?;  feet,  and  he  could  triumph  in  the  Lord,  the  God 
of  his  salvation. 

"  From  this  time  he  walked  valiantly  in  the  ways  of 
God ;  and  thinking  he  had  not  leisure  enough  in  the  day, 
he  made  it  a  constant  rule,  to  sit  up  two  niglits  in  a  week 
for  reading,  prayer,  and  meditation,  in  order  to  sink  deeper 
into  that  communion  with  God,  which  was  become  his 
soul's  delight.  Meantime,  he  took  only  vegetable  food, 
and  for  above  six  months,  lived  wholly  on  bread,  with  milk 
and  water. 

"  Notwithstanding  the  nights  he  sat  up,  he  made  it  a 
rule,  never  to  sleep,  as  long  as  he  could  possibly  keep 
awake.  For  this  purpose,  he  always  took  a  candle  and 
book  to  bed  with  him.  But  one  night,  being  overcome  o? 
sleep,  before  he  had  put  out  the  candle,  he  dreamed  his 
curtains,  pillow,  and  cap,  were  oh  fire,  without  doing  him 
any  harm.  And  so  it  was.  In  the  morning,  part  of  his 
curtains,  pillow,  and  cap,  were  burnt.  But  not  a  hair  of 
his  head  was  singed.  So  did  God  give  his  angels  charge 
over  him ! 

"  Some  time  after,  he  was  favoured  with  a  particu- 
lar manifestation  of  the  love  of  God :  so  powerful,  that 
it  appeared  to  him,  as  if  body  and  soul  would  be  sepa- 
rated. Now  all  his  desires  centred  in  one,  that  of  de- 
voting himself  to  the  service  of  his  precious  Master. 
This  he  thought  he  could  do  best  by  entering  into  or- 
ders. God  made  his  way  plain,  and  he  soon  after  settled 
in  Madeley.  He  received  this  parish  as  from  the  imme- 
diate hand  of  God,  and  unweariedly  laboured  therein, 
and  in  the  adjacent  places,  till  he  had  spent  himself  in 
his  Master's  service,  and  was  ripening  fast  for  glory. 
Much  opposition  he  met  with  for  many  years,  and  often 
his  life  was  in  danger.  Sometimes  he  was  inwardly  con- 
strained to  warn  obstinate  sinners,  that  if  they  did  not 
repent,  the  hand  of  God  would  cut  them  off.  And  the 
event  proved  the  truth  of  the  prediction.  But,  notwith- 


10 

standing  all  their  opposition,  many  were  the  seals  of  his 
ministry. 

"  He  had  an  earnest  desire  that  the  pure  gospel  should 
remain  among  his  people,  after  he  was  taken  away.  For 
this  purpose  he  surmounted  great  difficulties  in  building 
the  house  in  Madeley  Wood..  He  had  not  only  saved  for 
it  the  last  farthing  he  had,  but  when  he  was  abroad,  pro- 
posed to  let  the  vicarage  house,  (designing  at  his  return 
to  lire  in  a  little  cottage  near  it,)  and  appropriate  the  rent 
of  it  for  clearing  that  house. 

"  Since  the  time  I  had  the  honour  and  happiness  of 
living  with  him,  every  day  made  me  more  sensible  of  the 
mighty  work  of  the  Spirit  upon  him.  The  fruits  of  this 
were  manifest  in  all  his  life  and  conversation,  but  in  no- 
thing more  than  in  his  meekness  and  humility.  It  was  a 
meekness  which  no  affront  could  move  :  a  humilm  ivhich 
loved  to  be  unknown,  forgotten,  and  despised.*  How 
bard  is  it  to  find  an  eminent  person  who  loves  an  equal  T 
But  his  delight  was,  in  preferring  others  to  himself.  It 
appeared  so  natural  in  him,  that  it  seemed  as  his  meat,  to 
sot  every  one  before  himself.  He  spoke  not  of  the  fault 
fcF  an  absent  person,  but  when  necessary ;  and  jhen  with 
the  utmost  caution.  He  made  no  account  of  his  own  la- 
bours, and  perhaps  carried  to  an  extreme  his  dislike  of 
hearing  them  mentioned. 

"  Patience  is  the  daughter  of  humility.  In  him  it  dis- 
covered itself  in  a  manner  which  I  wish  I  could  either 
describe  or  imitate.  It  produced  in  him  a  ready  mind  ta 
embrace  every  cross  with  alacrity  and  pleasure.  And  for 
the  good  of  his  neighbour,  (the  poor  in  particular,)  nothing 
F-ecmed  hard,  nothing  wearisome.  When  I  have  been 
grieved  to  call  him  out  of  his  study,  from  his  closet  work, 
t\vo  or  three  times  in  an  hour,  he  would  answer,  '  Oh  my 
dear,  never  think  of  that :  it  matters  not  what  we  do,  so 
we  are  always  ready  to  meet  the  will  of  God :  it  is  only 
conformity  to  this  which  makes  any  employment  ex- 
cellent.' 

11  He  had  a  singular  love  for  the  lambs  of  the  flock,  the 
children,  and  applied  himself  with  the  greatest  diligence 
to  their  instruction,  for  which  he  had  a  peculiar  gift :  and 
this  populous  parish  found  him  full  exercise  for  it.  The 
poorest  met  with  the  same  attention  from  him  as  the  rich. 

*  I  think  this  was  goinjj  to  an  extreme. 

70 


11 

For  their  sakes  he  almost  grudged  himself  necessaries, 
tin",  otten  expressed  a  pain  in  using  them,  while  any  of  his 
I  :'.<-\t'h  wanted  them. 

"  ISut  while  I  mention  his  meekness  and  love,  let  me 
not  *orget  the  peculiar  favour  of  his  Master,  in  giving  him 
the  most  firm  and  resolute  courage.  In  reproving  sin  and 
open  sinners,  he  was  a  son  of  thunder,  and  regarded  nei- 
ther tear  nor  favour,  when  he  had  a  message  from  God  to 
deliver. 

••  With  respect  to  his  communion  with  God,  it  is  much 

'o  ne  lamented  that  we  have  no  account  of  it  from  his  own 

:^n      But  thus  far  I  can  say,  it  was  his  constant  care,  to 

keep  an  uninterrupted  sense  of  the  divine  presence.     la 

01  '['.*r  to  this,  he  was  slow  of  speech,  and  had  the  exactest 

government  of  his  words.     To  this  he  was  so  inwardly 

mive,  as  sometimes  to  appear  stupid  to  those  who  knew 

:i  not :  though  fevv  conversed  in  a  more  lively  manner, 

i  ne  judged  it  would  be  for  the  glory  of  God.     It  waa 

continued  endeavour  to  draw  up  his  own  and  every 

tl  ei  spirit,  to  an  immediate  intercourse  with  God.     And 

ins  intercourse  with  me  was  so  mingled  with  prayer  and 

:  -  j.  that  every  employment,  and  <?very  meal,  was,  as  it 

••r fumed  therewith.  He  often  said,  ''It  is  a  little  thing, 

(i  ';;mg  upon  God  by  faith,  as  to  feel  no  departure  from 

!ii;n.  .But  I  want  to  be  filled  with  the  fulness  of  his  Spirit.' 

'  I  -eel,'  said  he,  '  sometimes  such  gleams  of  light,  as  it 

were  wafts  of  heavenly  air,  as  seem  ready  to  take  my  soul 

witn  them  to  glory.'     A  little  before  his  last  illness,  when 

the  rever  began  to  rage  among  us,  he  preached  a  sermon 

on  the  duty  of  visiting  the  sick,  wherein  he  said,  '  What  do 

v  j:i  ie;\r  ?    Are  you  afraid  of  catching  the  distemper,  and 

dying?    Oh  fear  it  no  more  !    What  an  honour  to  die  in 

your  Master's  work  !    If  permitted  to  me,  I  should  account 

it  u  singular  favour.'    In  his  former  illness  he  wrote  thus, 

'  I  calmly  wait  in  unshaken  resignation,  for  the  full  salva- 

t'f;n  of  God;  ready  to  venture  on  his  faithful  love,  and  on 

fl'.<;  sure  mercies  of  David.     His  time  is  best,  and  is  my 

lime  :   Death  has  lost  its  sting.     And  I  bless  God  i  know 

5.';:  what  hurry  of  spirits  is,  or  unbelieving  fear?.' 

••  i''or  some  months  past,  he  scarcely  ever  lay  down  or 
rof-e  UT>  without  these  words  in  his  mouth, 
'  I  nothing  have,  I  nothing  am. 
My  treasure  's  in  the  bleeding  Lamb, 
Both  now  and  evermore.' 


12 

"  In  one  of  his  letters  which  he  wrote  some  time  since 
to  his  dear  people  at  Madeley,  same  of  his  words  are,  •'  i 
leave  this  blessed  island  for  a  while;  but,  I  trust,  I  shaA 
never  leave  the  kingdom  of  God, — the  shadow  of  Chris*:? 
orpss, — the  clefts  of  the  Rock,  smitten  and  pierced  for 
143.  There  I  meet  you  in  spirit :  thence,  I  trust,  I  shaii 
joyfully  leap  into  the  ocean  of  eternity,  to  go  and  join 
tjiose  ministering  spirits,  who  wait  on  the  heirs  of  salva- 
tion. And  if  I  am  no  more  allowed  to  minister  to  yon 
on  earth,  I  rejoice  at  the  thought  that  I  shall  perhaps  be. 
allowed  to  accompany  the  angels,  who,  if  you  abide  in  the 
faith,  will  be  commissioned  to  carry  you  into  Abraham's 
bosom.' 

"  The  thought  enlivens  my  faith !  Lord,  give  me  to  wak 
in  his  steps !  Then  shall  I  see  him  again,  and  my  heart 
shall  rejoice,  and  we  shall  eternally  behold  the  Lamb  toge- 
ther. Faith  brings  near  the  welcome  moment !  And  now 
he  beckons  me  away,  and  Jesus  bids  me  come !" 

I  know  not  that  any  thing  can  or  need  be  added  to  this, 
but  Mrs.  Fletcher's  account  of  his  death,  which  follows 
also  in  her  own  words. 

"  For  some  time  before  his  late  illness,  he  was  particu- 
larly penetrated  with  the  nearness  of  eternity.  There  was 
Scarcely  an  hour  in  which  he  was  not  calling  upon  us  \o 
drop  every  thought  and  every  care,  that  we  might  attenM 
to  nothing  but  drinking  deeper  into  God.  We  spent  mucn 
time  in  wrestling  with  God,  and  were  led  in  a  peculiar 
manner  to  abandon  our  whole  selves  into  the  hands  ol 
God,  to  do  or  suffer  whatever  was  pleasing  to  him. 

"  On  Thursday,  August  4,  he  was  employed  in  tue 
work  of  God,  from  three  in  the  afternoon  till  nine  at 
night.  When  he  came  home,  he  said,  '  I  have  taken 
cold.'  On  Friday  and  Saturday  he  was  not  well,  but 
seemed  uncommonly  drawn  out  in  prayer.  On  Saturday 
night  his  fever  appeared  very  strong.  I  begged  him  not 
to  go  to  church  in  the  morning :  but  he  told  me,  '  It  was 
the  will  of  the  Lord ;'  in  which  case  I  never  dared  to 
persuade.  In  reading  prayers  he  almost  fainted  away. 
1  got  through  the  crowd,  and  entreated  him  to  come  cv* 
of  the  desk.  But  he  let  me  and  others  know,  in  nis 
sweet  manner,  that  we  were  not  to  interrupt  the  order  of 
God.  I  then  retired  to  my  pew,  where  all  around  me 
were  in  tears.  When  he  was  a  little  refreshed  by  the 


windows  being  opened,  he  v/ent  on  with  a  strength  and 
recollection  that  surprised  us  all. 

"  Alter  sermon  he  went  to  the  communion  table  with 
these  words,  '  J  am  going  to  throw  myself  under  the  wings 
of  tae  cherubim,  before  the  merey  seat.'  The  service 
held  till  near  two.  Sometimes  he  could  scarcely  starx', 
and  was  often  obliged  to  stop.  The  people  were  deeply 
affected :  weeping  was  on  every  side.  Gracious  Lord ! 
iiow  was  it  my  soul  was  kept  so  calm  in  the  midst  of  the 
most  tender  feelings  1  Notwithstanding  his  extreme  weak- 
ness, he  gare  out  several  verses  of  hymns,  and  lively  sen- 
tences of  exhortation.  When  service  was  over,  we  hur- 
ried him  to  bed,  where  he  immediately  fainted  away.  He 
afterwards  dropped  into  a  sleep  for  some  time,  and,  on 
waking,  cried  out  with  a  pleasant  smile,  '  Now,  my  dear, 
thou  seest  I  am  no  worse  for  doing  the  Lord's  work  :  he 
never  fails  me  when  I  trust  in  him.'  Having  got  a  little 
dinner,  he  dozed  most  of  the  evening,  now  and  then 
waking  full  of  the  praises  of  God.  At  night  his  fever 
returned,  though  not  violent,  but  his  strength  decreased 
amazingly.  On  Monday  and  Tuesday  we  had  a  little 
paradise  together :  he  lay  on  a  couch  in  lac  study,  and,, 
though  often  changing  posture,  was  sweetly  pleasant,  and 
frequently  slept  a  good  while.  When  awake,  he  delighted 
in  hearing  me  read  hymns  and  tracts  on  faith  and  love. 
His  words  were  all  animating,  and  his  patience  beyond 
expression.  When  he  had  any  nauseous  medicines  to 
take,  he  seemed  to  enjoy  the  cross,  according  to  a  word 
he  used  often  to  repeat,  that  we  are  to  seek  a  p<  «•',•  -c»  con- 
formity to  the  will  of  God,  and  leave  him  to  give  us  what 
comfort  he  sees  good.  I  asked  him,  whether  he  had  any 
advice  to  leave  me,  if  he  should  be  taken  from  me  ?  He 
replied,  «  I  have  nothing  particular  to  say,  the  Lord  will 
open  all  before  tkee.'  I  said,  (  Have  you  any  conviction 
that  God  is  about  to  take  you  T  He  said,  '  No,  not  in  par- 
ticular ;  oniy  I  always  see  death  so  inexpressibly  ne.ir,  that 
we  both  se<  rn  to  stand  on  the  verge  of  eternity.'  While  he 
slept  a  little,  I  besought  the  Lord,  if  it  were  hi 
pleasure,  to  spare  him  to  me  a  little  longer  : 
prayer  seemed  to  have  no  wings,  and  I  could  i 
mingling  continually  therev  ii  'Lord,  give  me 
resignation.1  This  uncertainty  made  me  trein1 
God  was  going  to  put  into  my  hand  the  bitter  <• 
70 


14 

which  'he  lately  threatened  my  husband.  Some  weeks 
before,  I  myself  was  ill  of  the  fever.  My  husband  then 
ielt  the  whole  parting  scene,  and  struggled  for  perfect 
resignation.  He  said,  '  Oh  Polly,  shall  I  ever  see  the 
day,  when  thou  must  be  carried  out  to  be  buried  1  How- 
will  the  little  things  which  thy  tender  care  has  prepared 
for  me  in  every  part  of  the  house,  how  will  they  wound 
iind  distress  me  1  How  is  it?  I  think  I  feel  jealousy !  I 
a;a  jealous  of  the  worms.  I  seem  to  shrink  at  giving  my 
dear  Polly  to  the  worms  !' 

"  Now  all  these  reflections  returned  upon  my  heart  with 
the  weight  of  a  millstone.  I  cried  to  the  Lord,  and  those 
words  were  deeply  impressed  on  my  spirits,  '  Where  I  am, 
there  shall  my  servants  be,  that  they  may  behold  my  glory.* 
This  promise  was  full  of  comfort  to  my  souL  I  saw,  that 
in  Christ's  immediate  presence  was  our  home,  and  that  we 
should  find  our  reunion  in  being  deeply  centred  in  him. 
I  received  it  as  a  fresh  marriage  for  eternity.  As  such,  I 
trust  for  ever  to  hold  it.  All  that  day,  whenever  I  thought 
on  that  expression,  to  behold  my  glory,  it  seemed  to  wipe 
away  every  tear,  and  was  as  the  ring  whereby  we  were 
joined  anew. 

"  Awaking  some  time  after,  he  said,  '  Polly,  I  have  been 
thinking,  it  was  Israel's  fault,  that  they  asked  for  signs. 
We  will  not  do  so,  but  abandoning  our  whole  selves  into 
the  hands  of  Qod,  we  will  lie  patiently  before  him,  assured 
that  he  will  do  all  things  well.' 

"  '  My  dear  love,'  said  I,  '  if  ever  I  have  done  or  said 
any  thing  to  grieve  thee,  how  will  the  remembrance  wound 
my  heart,  shouldst  thou  be  taken  from  me  !' 

"  He  entreated  and  charged  me,  with  inexpressible 
tenderness,  not  to  allow  the  thought,  declaring  his  thank- 
fulness for  our  union,  in  a  variety  of  words  written  on  my 
heart  as  with  the  adamantine  pen  of  friendship. 

"  On  Wednesday,  after  groaning  all  day  under  the 
weight  of  the  power  of  God,  he  told  me  he  had  received 
such  a  manifestation  of  the  full  meaning  of  those  words, 
'  God  is  love,'  as  he  could  never  be  able  to  tell.  '  It  fills 
me,'  said  he,  '  every  moment.  Oh  Polly,  my  dear  Polly, 
God  is  love.  Shout,  shout  aloud  !  I  want  a  gust  of  praise 
to  go  to  the  ends  of  the  earth.  But  it  seems  as  if  I  could 
not  speak  much  longer.  Let  us  fix  on  a  sign  between 
ourselves,  (tapping  me  twice  with  his  finger,)  now  I  mean, 


15 

'  God  is  love.'  And  we  will  draw  each  other  im~>  God. 
<  )L>serve  !  By  this  we  will  draw  each  other  into  God.' 

"  Saliy  coming  in,  he  cried  out,  'Oh  Sally,  God  is  love. 
J'.hoiH  both  of  you  :  I  want  to  hear  you  shout  his  praise.' 
All  tiiis  time  the  medical  friend  who  diligently  attended 
him,  hoped  he  was  in  no  danger :  as  he  had  no  bad  head- 
riche,  much  sleep,  without  the  least  delirium,  and  an  al- 
most regular  pulse.  So  was  the  disease,  though  commis- 
sioned to  take  his  life,  restrained  by  the  power  of  Gcd. 

'  On  Thursday  his  speech  began  to  fail.  While  he  was 
a',lc,  he  spoke  to  all  that  came  in  his  way.  Hearing  that 
?i  stranger  was  in  the  house,  he  ordered  her  to  be  called 
up,  though  uttering  t\vo  sentences  almost  made  him  faint. 
To  his  friendly  doctor  he  would  not  be  silent,  while  he  had 
any  power  of  speech.  After  saying,  'Oh  sir,  you  take  too 
much  thought  ibr  my  body:  give  me  leave  to  take  thought 
fur  your  sou!.'  When  I  could  scarcely  understand  any 
thing  he  said, . I  spoke  these  words,  'God  is  love.'  In- 
.'.;.antly>  as  if  all  his  powers  were  awakened,  he  broke  out 
in  a  rantv.rc,  *  God  is  love  !  love !  Oh  for  that  gust  of  j:ruiso 
j[  want  to  sound  !' — Here  his  voice  again  failed.  lie  suH- 
Ibred  many  ways ;  but  with  such  patience,  as  none  but 
iliose  then  present  can  conceive.  If  I  named  his  suffer- 
ings, he  would  smile,  and  make  the  sign. 

"  On  Friday,  finding  his  body  covered  with  spots,  I  fek 
a  sword  pierce  through  my  soul.  As  I  was  kneeling  bv  his 
Mcle,  with  my  hand  in  his,  entreating  the  Lord  to  be  with 
i;s  in  this  tremendous  hour,  he  strove  to  say  many  thing:;, 
but  could  not :  pressing  my  hand,  and  often  repeating  tho 
.*ign.  At  last  he  bfeathed  out, ''  Head  of  the  church,  lx> 
Lead  to  my  wife  !'  When,  for  a  few  moments  I  was  forced 
t.>  leave  him,  Sally  said  to  him,  '  My  dear  master,  do  yo;t 
know  me  !'  He  replied,  '  Sally,  God  will  put  his  right  luind 
wider  you.'  She  added,  '  Oh  my  dear  master,  should  you 
be  taken  away,  what  a  disconsolate  creature  \\i\l  my  poor 
<!'-ar  mistress  be  !'  He  replied,  'God  will  be  her  all  in  all.* 
j'e  had  always  delighted  much  in  these  words, 
:  Jesus*  Wood  through  earth  and  skies, 
Mercy,  free,  boundless  mercy  cries.' 

Whenever  I  repeated  them  to  him,  he  would  answer, 
llot/ndless !  boundless!  boundless!  He  now  added,  though 
v.ith  great  difficulty, 

'  Mercy's  full  power  I  soon  shall  prove, 
Lovei  with  an  everlasting  love  ' 


16 

"  On  Saturday  afternoon  his  fever  seemed  quite  ofi',  and 
n  few  friends  standing  near  the  bed,  he  reached  his  hand 
to  each,  and  looking  on  a  minister,  said,  '  Are  you  ready 
to  assist  to  morrow  ?'  His  recollection  surprised  us,  as 
the  day  of  the  week  had  not  been  named  in  his  room. 
Many  believed  he  would  recover :  and  one  said,  '  Do  you 
think  the  Lord  will  raise  you  up?'  He  strove  to  answer, 
saying,  '  Raise  me  in  the  resur' — meaning  in  the  resur- 
rection. To  another,  asking  the  same  question,  he  said, 
•  I  leave  it  all  to  God.' 

"  In  the  evening,  the  fever  returned  with  violence,  avd 
the  mucus  falling  on  his  throat  almost  strangled  him.  It 
was  supposed  the  same  painful  emotion  would  grow  more 
and  more  violent  to  the  last.  As  I  felt  this  exquisitely,  I 
cried  to  the  Lord  to  remove  it :  and,  glory  be  to  his  name, 
he  did.  From  that  time  it  returned  no  more.  As  night 
drew  on,  I  perceived  him  dying  very  fast.  His  fingers  ' 
could  hardly  make  the  sign,  (which  he  scarce  ever  for- 
got,) and  his  speech  seemed  quite  gone.  I  said,  '  My 
dear  creature,  I  ask  not  for  myself,  /  know  thy  soul;  but 
ibr  the  sake  of  others,  if  Jesus  is  very  present  with  the?, 
lift  thy  right  hand.'  He  did.  '  If  the  prospect  of  glory 
sweetly  opens  before  thee,  repeat  the  sign.'  He  imme- 
diately raised  it  again :  and  in  half  a  minute,  a  second 
time :  he  then  threw  it  up,  as  if  he  would  reach  the  top 
of  the  bed.  After  this,  his  dear  hands  moved  no  more  : 
but  on  my  saying,  '  Art  thou  in  much  pain  V  he  answered, 
'  No.'  From  this  time  he  lay  in  a  kind  of  sleep,  though 
with  his  eyes  open  and  fixed.  For  the  most  part  lie  sat 
upright  against  pillows,  with  his  head  a  little  inclining  to 
one  side :  and  so  remarkably  composed  and  triumphant 
was  his  countenance,  that  the  least  trace  of  death  was 
scarcely  discernible  in  it. 

"  Twenty-four  hours  he  was  in  this  situation,  breathing 
like  a  person  in  common  sleep.  About  thirty-five  minutes 
past  ten,  on  Sunday  night,  August  14th,  his  precious  soul 
entered  into  the  joy  of  his  Lord,  without  one  struggle  or 
groan,  in  the  fifty-sixth  year  of  his  age. 

"  And  here  I  break  off  my  mournful  story  :  but  on  my 
bleeding  heart  the  fair  picture  of  his  heavenly  excellence 
will  be  for  ever  drawn.  When  I  call  to  mind  his  ardent 
zeal,  his  laborious  endeavours  to  seek  and  to  save  the  lost, 
i.is  diligence  in  the  employment  of  his  time,  his  Christ 


17 

like  condescension  towards  me,  and  his  unintcrrupit_ 
converse  with  heaven ;  I  may  well  be  allowed  to  add,  my 
Joss  is  beyond  the  power  of  words  to  paint.  I  have  gone 
tlirmigh  deep  waters :  but  all  my  afflictions  were  nothing 
compared  to  this.  Well :  I  want  no  pleasant  prospect, 
but  upwards ;  nor  any  thing  whereon  to  fix  my  hope,  but 
immortality. 

"  On  the  17th,  his  dear  remains  were  deposited  in 
Madeley  church  yard,  amid  the  tears  and  lamentations  of 
thousands.  The  service  was  performed  by  the  Rev. 
Mr.  Hatton,  Rector  of  Waters  Upton,  whom  God  en- 
abled to  speak  in  a  pathetic  manner  to  his  weeping  flock. 
In  the  conclusion,  at  my  request,  he  read  the  following 
paper. 

"  As  it  was  the  desire  of  my  beloved  husband  to  be 
buried  in  this  plain  manner,  so,  out  of  tenderness,  he 
begged  that  I  might  not  be  present.  And  in  all  things  I 
would  obey  him. 

"  Permit  me,  then,  by  the  mouth  of  a  friend,  to  bear 
my  open  testimony  to  the  glory  of  God,  iiiit  I,  who 
have  known  him  in  the  most  perfect  manner,  am  con- 
strained to  declare,  that  I  never  knew  any  one  to  walk 
so  closely  in  the  v/ays  of  God  as  he  did.  The  Lord 
gave  him  a  conscience  tender  as  the  apple  of  an  eye. 
He  literally  preferred  the  interest  of  every  one  to  his 
own. 

"  He  was  rigidly  just,  but  perfectly  loose  from  all  at- 
tachment to  the  world.  He  shared  his  all  with  the  poor, 
who  lay  so  close  to  his  heart,  that,  at  the  approach  of 
death,  when  he  could  not  speak  without  difficulty,  he 
cried  out,  '  Oh  my  poor  !  what  will  become  of  my  poor  ?' 
He  was  blessed  with  so  great  a  degree  of  humility,  as  is 
scarce  to  be  found.  I  am  witness,  how  often  he  has  rejoiced 
n  being  treated  with  contempt.  Indeed  it  seemed  the 
very  food  of  his  soul,  to  be  little  and  unknown.  When  he 
desired  me  to  write  a  line  to  his  brother,  if  he  died,  I 
replying,  '  I  will  write  him  all  the  Lord's  dealings  with 
thee  ;'  '  No,  no,'  said  he  :  '  write  nothing  about  me.  I 
only  desire  to  be  forgotten.  God  is  all.' 

"  His  zeal  for  souls  I  need  not  tell  you.  Let  the  labours 
of  twenty-five  years,  and  a  martyr's  death  in  the  conclu- 
sion, imprint  it  on  your  hearts.  His  diligent  visitation  of 
the  sick,  occasioned  the  fever,  which,  by  God's  commis- 

70 


18 

>  sion,  tore  him  from  you  and  me.  And  his  vehement  de- 
sire to  take  his  last  leave  of  you,  with  dying  lips  and 
hands,  pave,  it  is  supposed,  the  finishing  stroke,  by  ]:;•-.:- 
pr.tii.'g  his  blood  for  putrefaction.  Thus  has  he  lived  and 
died  your  servant.  And  will  any  of  you  refuse  to  meet 
him  VL  God's  right  hand  in  that  day? 

"  He  walked  with  death  always  in  sight.  About  Uvo 
mouths  ago,  he  came  to  me  and  said,  '  My  dear  love,  I 
1  not  how  it  is,  but  I  have  a  strange  impression,  death 
is  very  near  us,  as  if  it  would  he  some  sudden  stroke  upon 
one  of  us.  And  it  draws  out  all  my  soul  in  prayer,  that  we 
may  he  ready.'  He  then  broke  out,  '  Lord,  prepare  the 
soul  thou  wilt  call.  And,  oh  stand  by  thy  poor  disccnso- 

'     late  one  that  shall  be  left  behind.' 

"  A  few  days  before  his  departure,  he  was  filled  with 

.  love  in  an  uncommon  manner,  saying  to  me,  '  I  have  had 
such  a  discovery  of  the  depth  of  that  word,  God  is  hrc, 
I  cannot  tell  the  half.  Oh  shout  his  praise.'  The  same 
he  testified,  as  long  as  he  had  a  voice,  and  continued  to 
Jtestily  to  the  en^,  by  a  most  larnl*  like  patience,  in  \rMc!i 
lie  smiled  over  death,  and  set  his  last  seal  to  the  glorious 
truths  he  had  so  long  preached  among  you. 

"  Three  years,  nine  months,  and  Jwo  days,  I  have  pos- 
sessed my  heavenly  minded  husband.  But  now  the  sun  of 
my  earthly  joy  is  set  for  ever,  and  my  soul  is  filled  with 
anguish,  which  only  finds  its  consolation  in  a  total  resig- 
nation to  the  will  of  God.  When  I  was  asking  the  Lord, 
if  he  pleased,  to  spare  him  to  me  a  little  longer,  the  fol- 
Jowing  promise  was  impressed  on  my  mind  with  -  great 
power,  (in  the  accomplishment  of  which  /  look  fur  u>-:r 
reunion,)  'Where  I  am,  there  shall  my  servants  be,  t;,;.t 
they  may  behold  my  glory.'  Lord,  hasten  the  hour." 

There  is  little  need  of  adding  anv  farther  character  of 
this  man  of  God,  to  the  foregoing  account,  given  by  one 

t  who  wrote  out  of  the  fulness  of  her  heart,  i  would  only 
observe,  that  for  many  years  I  despaired  of  finding  any 
inhabitant  of  Great  Britain,  that  could  .stand  in  any  degree 
of  comparison  with  Gregory  Lopez,  or  Monsieur  de  Renty. 
But  let  an  impartial  person  judge,  if  Mr.  Fletcher  was  at 
all  inferior  to  them.  Did  he  not  experience  as  deep  com- 
munion with  God,  and  as  high  a  measure  of  inward  hoh- 
ness,  as  was  experienced  either  by  one  or  the  other  .M 
those  burning  and  shining  lights  1  And  it  is  certain,  his 


19 

outward  holiness  shone  before  men,  with  full  as  bright  a 
lustre  as  theirs.  But  if  any  should  attempt  to  draw  a 
parallel  between  them,  there  are  two  circumstances  that 
deserve  consideration.  One  is,  we  are  not  assured,  that 
the  writers  of  their  lives  did  not  extenuate,  if  not  suppress, 
what  was  amiss  in  them.  And  some  things  amiss  we  are 
assured  there  were,  viz.  many  touches  of  superstition,  and 
soihe  of  idolatry,  in  worshipping  saints,  the  Virgin  ?.Iary 
in  particular.  But  I  have  not  suppressed  or  extenuated 
anything  in  Mr.  Fletcher's  character.  For  indeed  I 
knew  nothing  that  was  amiss,  nothing  that  needed  to  be 
extenuated,  much  less  suppressed.  A  second  circumstance 
is,  that  the  writers  of  their  lives,  could  not  have  so  full  a 
knowledge  of  them,  as  both  Mrs.  Fletcher  and  I  had  of  Mr. 
Fletcher,  being  eye  and  ear  witnesses  of  his  whole  conduct 
Consequently  we  know,  that  his  life  was  not  sullied  with 
any  mixture  of  either  idolatry  or  superstition.  I  was  inti- 
mately acquainted  with  him  for  above  thirty  years.  I 
conversed  with  him  morning,  noon,  and  night,  without 
the  least  reserve,  during  a  journey  of  many  hundred 
miles.  And  in  all  that  time,  I  never  heard  him  speak 
0113  improper  word,  nor  saw  him  do  an  improper  action. — 
To  conclude.  Many  exemplary  men  have  I  known,  holy 
in  heart  and  life,  within  four  score  years.  But  one  equal 
to  him,  I  have  not  known  :  one  so  inwardly  and  out- 
wardly devoted  tcf  God.  So  unblamable  a  character  in 
every  respect,  I  have  not  found  either  in  Europe  or 
America.  Nor  do  I  expect  to  find  another  such,  on  this 
si:le  of  eternity. 

As  it  is  possible  we  may  all  be  such  as  he  was,  let  us 
endeavour  to  follow  him  as  he  followed  Chris*.!",, 

Norwich,  Oct.  24,  1785.  ,f;.y 


NO.  71. 


PRECEPT  AND  EXAMPLE, 

BY    MRS.    SHERWOOD. 


ONE  day  Squire  James  called  in  at  Mr.  Browne's,  and 
said,  "  Mrs.  Browne,  you  have  not  been  over  to  see  my 
wife  I  don't  know  the  day  when.  I  wish  you  would  come, 
for  she  wants  to  have  a  little  talk  with  you." 

"  I  hope  there  is  nothing  amiss,"  says  Mrs.  Browne. 
"  Why  no,"  said  the  Squire,  "  no  great  things,  I  trust : 
but  Charlotte  gives  my  wife  some  uneasiness.  The  girl 
is  not  so  dutiful  as  she  should  be ;  I  must  say  the  truth : 
and  my  wife  wants  to  break  her  mind  upon  it  to  you." 

"  Well,"  says  Mr,s.  Browne,  "  I  will  come  overdo  mor- 
row: not  that  my  opinion  is  worth  your  wife's  asking;  but 
it  may  be  some  comfort  to  her  to  have  a  friend  to  speak 
with,  concerning  any  thing  that  troubles  her." 

So  the  Squire  took  his  leave,  first  saying,  "  You  had 
better  come  before  breakfast,  Mrs.  Browne,  for  it  is  a  good 
step  to  our  house,  and  the  weather  is  exceedingly  warm." 

As  soon  as  the  Squire  was  gone,  Mrs.  Browne  said  to 
her  husband,  "  I  wonder  what  is  the  matter  now  ?  I  am 
sure  Mrs.  James  has  taken  pains  with  her  children ;  and 
it  would  grieve  me  much  if  they  should  not  afford  her 
comfort :"  "  Why,"  says  Mr.  Browne,  "  it  will  never  an- 
swer, wife,  to  be  serving  two  masters.  Some  few  folks 
(I  wish  there  were  more  of  them  in  this  world)  are  for 
.serving  God  entirely :  and  there  are  many  others  all  for 
mammon ;  but  as  for  poor  Mrs.  James,  she  is  for  serving 
both.  She  is  a  mighty  woman  for  making  a  figure  in  this 
world,  and  she  would  fain  do  well  in  the  next  too.  Bu4. 
it  will  not  do — I  never  saw  it  answer  yet :  '  No  man  cau 
serve  two  masters,'  as  our  Lord  hath  said,  '  for  either  he 
will  hate  the  one,  and  love  the  other ;  or  else  he  will  hold 
to  the  one  and  despise  the  other.  Ye  cannot  serve  God 
and  mammon,'  Matt,  vi,  24.  These  children  of  James 
have  learned  catechisms,  and  hymns,  and  prayers,  and 
texts  without  end :  they  showed  themselves  to  be  good 
Bible  scholars  in  the  church  last  Friday ;  but  though  there 
is  a  plaster  for  afl  sores  in  the  Bible,  the  plaster  \viH  no* 


heal  unless  it  be  applied  to  the  sore ;  and  these  children 
have,  I  fear,  never  been  taught  to  apply  the  Scripture, 
and  bring  it  home  to  themselves  :  neither  have  they  seen 
their  parents  shaping  their  lives  to  the  Bible  rules  ;  but  on 
the  contrary,  they  have  seen  them  following  the  fashions 
of  the  world, — then  where  is  the  wonder  if  the  young  ones 
do  not  turn  out  as  they  should  do  ?" 

"  There  is  much  truth  in  what  you  say,"  replied  Mrs. 
Browne.  "  Mr.  King,"  said  her  husband,  "  gave  us  an 
excellent  discourse  while  you  were  away,  I  never  heard 
a  better,  and  the  text  was  this — '  And  Elijah  came  unto 
all  the  people,  and  said,  How  long  halt  ye  between  two 
opinions  ?  if  the  Lord  be  God,  follow  him :  but  if  Baal, 
then  follow  him.  And  the  people  answered  him  not  a 
word,'  1  Kings  xviii,  21.  There  were  many  things  in  that 
discourse  that  made  me  look  to  myself  with  shame." 

Nothing  more  passed  between  Mr.  Browne  and  his  wife 
on  this  subject  that  night;  and  the  next  morning  Mrs. 
Browne  took  her  work  and  went  over  to  the  Squire's. — 
She  found  Mrs.  James  sitting  in  the  hall  alone,  for  the 
children  had  gone  to  take  a  walk  :  so  sitting  down  by  her, 
Mrs.  James  soon  explained  to  Mrs.  Browne  the  cause  of 
her  trouble.  "  I  am  sure,"  said  Mrs.  James,  "  from  the 
day  of  their  birth,  no  mother  has  been  a  greater  slave  to 
her  children  than  I  have  been  to  mine.  I  have  fed  them 
\vith  the  best,  I  have  clothed  them  with  the  best,  and  I 
have  provided  them  with  the  best  learning  in  my  power. 
First,  Edward  Burns,  who  was  a  capital  scholar,  taught 
them  to  read,  write,  and  cypher ;  he  also  made  them  learn 
the  whole  of  the  catechism  by  heart,  together  with  some 
scores  of  hymns :  and  since  he  died,  James  Law  has  come 
every  day  to  hear  them  read,  and  to  bring  them  forward 
in  their  learning ;  and  he  sets  them  verses  from  the  Bible 
which  I  am  at  the  pains  to  make  them  learn.  Then 
Charlotte,  can  mark  as  prettily  as  any  girl  in  the  country : 
and  as  to  stitching,  and  flowering,  and  doing  the  carpet 
work,  I  will  match  her  with  the  very  best.  And  I  do  not 
think  that  even  your  little  girl  can  read  better  than  rny 
Kitty,  though  Mary  is  the  elder  by  four  months.  And 
now,"  adds  Mrs.  J.  "  is  it  not  very  hard,  when  I  hoped  to 
begin  to  reap  the  fruit  of  all  my  labours,  and  cares,  and 
expense,  to  see. Charlotte  going  altogether  wrong!  My 
children  will  have  a  right  to  rank  among  the  best,  and1 


Charlotte  might  marry  well,  but  her  own  undutifulness 
and  obstinacy  will  be  her  downfal.  I  have  threatened  to 
lock  her  up,  and  I  will  be  as  good  as  my  word,  for  she  will 
break  my  heart."  Here  the  poor  woman  burst  into  tears, 
for  her  trouble  was  great:  and  Mrs.  Browne,  who  was 
very  much  concerned  for  the  anxious  mother,  endeavoured 
to  comfort  her. 

"What  can  I  do,  Mrs.  Browne? — what  can  1  do?" 
asked  Mrs.  James  when  she  could  speak.  "  Do  give  me 
your  advice,  you  have  brought  up  several  motherless  girls, 
and  they  have  for  the  most  pan  done  well ;  tell  me  what 
your  method  is  ?" 

''  I  strive  to  make  them  fear  God,"  answered  Mrs. 
Browne ;  "  I  teach  them  the  word  of  God,  and  pray  for 
them ;  and  while  they  are  young  I  don't  spare  the  rod 
when  I  see  occasion  to  use  it." 

"Well,"  said  Mrs.  James,  "and  do  I  not  cause  my 
children  to  learn  God's  word  ?  Could  Charlotte  have  got 
that  Bible  in  the  church,  if  she  had  not  some  knowledge 
of  religion  1  I  cannot  blame  myself  for  neglecting  her 
religious  instruction — I  cannot,  indeed,  Mrs.  Browne. — 

But  do  give  me  your  aHvioe.-    What  can  I  do  ?    Must  I  lock 

her  up?  Her  father  has  beat  her,  and  that  several  times." 

Mm.  B.  Beating  and  locking  up  may  do  with  little  ones, 
Mrs.  James ;  but  it  seldom  answers  with  grown  girls. 

Mrs.  J.  But  you  do  not  tell  me  what  I  can  do  better*! — 
Pray  point  out  my  fault,  if  I  have  any.  in  the  management 
of  the  girl  ?  do,  Mrs.  Browne,  give  me  your  opinion.  You 
have  had  such  success  in  the  bringing  up  several  girls, 
now  grown  women,  that  1  would  gladly  have  your  advice. 

Mrs.  Browne  had,  it  is  true,  brought  up  several  young 
women  well,  and  they  had  married  and  become  good 
wives;  and  she  now  made  answer  to  Mrs.  James,  that  it" 
she  really  wished  for  her  advice,  she  would  give  it  her 
without  fail,  in  the  evening ;  when  she  should  have  had 
time  to  consider  the  matter  better,  and  to  judge  a  little  of 
Mrs.  James's  method  with  the  children. 

By  this  time  the  Squire,  and  the  three  young  ones,  were 
come  in;  and  they  all  sat  down  to  breakfast.  Mrs.  Browne 
bearing  in  mind  the  conversation  that  had  just  passed  be- 
tween herself  and  Mrs.  James,  took  a  good  deal  of  notice 
of  the  behaviour  of  the  parents  towards  the  chil  Von,  nnd 
of  the  children  to  the  parents.  The  Squire,  as  soon  as  he 

71 


came  in,  called  for  a  tumbler  of  brandy  and  water,  and 
made  it  pretty  strong.  The  Weather  was  very  hot,  and 
the  poor  man  ready  to  drop ;v but  I  have  no  doubt  but  a 
good  dish  of  tea  would  have  cooled  him  better,  and  done 
him  more  good ;  and  Mrs.  Browne  was  sadly  vexed  to  see 
that  after  drinking  off  two  parts  of  the  brandy  and  water, 
he  divided  the  rest  between  William  and  little  Kitty;  Mrs. 
James  sitting  by  and  taking  no  notice. 

There  was  tea,  and  bread,  and  butter,  and  plenty  of 
fried  bacon,  eggs,  and  fish,  for  breakfast;  and  the  chil- 
dren were  allowed  to  take  what  they  pleased,  and  eat  or 
leave,  just  as  they  fancied  :  so  that  they  wasted  more  than 
they  ate,  which  is  an  ugly  and  sinful  custom,  considering 
how  many  poor  people  would  be  glad  of  those  bits  and 
fragments  which  children  have  been  fingering  and  throw- 
ing about. 

Mrs.  Browne  also  observed  that  the  children  spoke  very 
pertly  to  their  parents,  and  very  rudely  to  each  other ;  and 
that  Mi's.  James  made  much  difference  in  her  behaviour 
to  Charlotte  and  to  little  Kitty :  for  nothing  that  Kitty 
could  do  was  wrong,  while  she  was  continually  finding 
fault  with  Charlotte,  and  snubbing  hpr,  even  when  there 
was  no  need.  And  here  again,  thought  Mrs.  Browne,  is 
another  great  mistake  of  parents.  While  children  are 
young,  and  a  little  strict  management  and  proper  chastise- 
ment might  do  them  great  service  ;  we  withhold  both  the 
one  and  the  other,  indulging  them  in  all  their  whims  and 
little  evil  ways :  but  when  they  begin  to  advance  to  man's 
or  woman's  estate — when  the  world  strews  their  way  thick 
with  temptations  and  snares,  and  the  only  safe  place  for 
them  is  home ;  then  parents  are  from  morning  till  night, 
contradicting  and  thwarting  them,  so  that  they  are  glad 
to  go  any  where  to  get  out  of  the  way  of  them. 

Just  as  the  family  had  finished  their  breakfast,  and  Mrs. 
Browne  and  Mrs.  James  had  taken  out  their  work,  James 
Law  came  in,  and  calling  the  young  people  into  the  hall, 
he  heard  them  say  their  lessons,  and  gave  to  them  their 
verses  for  the  day.  When  he  had  done,  Mrs.  James  said, 
"  Won't  you  come  in,  James  Law,  and  sit  a  little,  and 
take  a  glass  of  something  this  warm  day  1" 

"  No,  thank  you,  Mrs.  James/'  he  answered,  "  I  must 
be  going,  only  be  so  kind  as  to  see  that  the  young  folks 
{earn  what  I  have  set  them." 

71 


"  Surely;"  says  Mrs.  James,  so  she  made  them  come  in, 
and  sit  at  one  end  of  the  room,  learning  their  verses,  while 
she  and  Mrs.  B.  sat  down  to  their  work  at  the  other. 

Mrs.  James  was  plaiting  some  fine  lace  upon  a  worked 
muslin  gown,  and  as  she  busily  plied  her  needle,  she  said 
to  Mrs.  Browne,  "  I  am  getting  this  gown  ready  to  go  to 
Capt.  Davvson's  to  morrow.  It  is'  his  birth  day,  and  there 
will  be  as  many  as  five  and  twenty  or  thirty  people  there ; 
and  I  imagine  we  shall  have  a  dance." 

*'A  dance,"  says  Mrs.  Browne,  smiling;  "you  will  find 
it  very  hot.  Last  Wednesday  night  the  people  were  com- 
plaining how  hot  it  was  in  church,  and  some  of  them  said 
that  they  would  go  there  no  more  till  it  was  cooler.  We 
should  have  thought  it  very  hard,  if,  while  complaining  of 
the  heat,  we  had  been  forced  up  to  dance." 

"  Oh,  but  there  will  be  lemonade  and  refreshments 
handed  roond,"  said  Mrs.  James,  "or  else,  to  be  sure,  we 
could  not  bear  the  exercise."  She  then  called  to  her 
eldest  daughter,  "  Why,  Charlotte,  what  are  you  about 
there  ?  are  not  those  verses  learned  yet  ?  don't  you  know 
that  you  have  your  own  and  your  sister's  frock  to  get 
ready  for  to  morrow  night,  and  two  or  three  more  jobs? 
What  are  you  dandling  about  there  V 

Charlotte  answered,  La !  mother,  what  a  hurry  you  are 
in !  How  am  I  to  learn  four  verses  in  three  minutes  ? 

Mrs.  J.  And  how  are  you  to  get  all  the  trimmings  put 
on  the  frocks,  if  you  don't  make  haste? 

Charlotte.  What,  is  there  no  mantuamaker  in  the  place? 

This  dispute  was  stopped  by  little  Kitty  getting  up,  and 
saying,  "  Mother,  see  if  1  can  say  my  lesson  well  enough?" 

Mrs.  James  took  the  Bible  in  her  hand,  and  the  child 
repeated  her  verse,  which  was  from  1  John  iii,  17,  "  Whoso 
hath  this  world's  goods,  and  seeth  his  brother  have  need, 
and  shutteth  up  his  bowels  of  compassion  from  him,  how 
dvvelleth  the  love  of  God  in  him  ?" 

The  child  said  the  verse  rery  exactly,  and  her  mother 
commended  her,  bidding  her  say  it  as  well  to  James  Law 
the  next  day.  At  that  moment  there  appeared,  just  oppo 
site  the  door,  a  very  old  blind  black  woman,  who  was 
almost  naked,  and  her  bones  scarcely  covered  with  skin  ; 
a  slender  black  child  led  her  by  the  hand.  She  was  a  very 
dirty  and  miserable  creature,  and  she  begged  for  one  six- 
pence, only  one  sixpence. 


6 

Mrs.  James  called  out,  "  What's  there  ?  Oh !  what  a 
frightful  object!" 

"She  wants  sixpence,  mother,"  said  Kitty. 

"Oh,  sixpence  indeed,"  said  her  mother;  "I  have 
something  else  to  do  with  my  money  than  to  give  it  to 
such  vagabonds  as  those.  Tell  her  to  go,  Kitty ." 

"  But  she  is  blind,  mother,"  said  the  child. 

."  Blind  indeed,"  said  Mrs.  James,  "if  I  were  to  give  to 
all  the  blind  beggars  about,  our  house  would  never  be  free, 
do  tell  her  (o  be  gone." 

By  this  time  Mrs.  Browne,  who  had  been  looking  in  her 
work  bag,  found  some  money  in  the  corner  of  her  house- 
wife; so  she  slipped  it  irito  Kitty's  hand,  and  the  child  ran 
with  it  to  the  poor  woman,  who  went  away  very  well  con- 
tented; and  Mrs.  James,  who  was  now  hearing  Charlotte 
repeat  her  verses,  either  did  not  see,  or  pretended  not  to 
see,  what  TVIrs.  Browne  was  doing.  Mrs.  Browne  then 
listened  to  hear  what  Charlotte's  verses  were.  They  hap- 
pened to  be  one  of  her  favourite  passages  of  Scripture, 
and  wer6  taken  from  1  Pet.  iii,  1-4.  When  speaking  of 
women  the  apostle  gives  them  these  directions,  "  Likewise 
ye  wives  be  in  subjection  to  your  own  husbands ;  that  if 
any  obey  not  the  word,  they  also  may  without  the  word, 
be  won  by  the  conversation  of  the  wives;  while  they 
behold  your  chaste  conversation  coupled  with  fear.  Whose 
adorning,  let  it  not  be  that  outward  adorning  of  plaiting  the 
hair,  and  of  wearing  of  gold,  or  of  putting  on  of  apparel ; 
but  let  it  be  the  hidden  man  of  the  heart,  in  that  which  is 
not  corruptible,  even  the  ornament  of  a  meek  and  quiet 
spirit,  whic%  is  in  the  sight  of  God  of  great  price."  "Oh! 
mother,"  said  Charlotte,  almost  before  she  had  finished 
the  verses,  "  there's  the  man  with  the  necklaces  and  box 
of  artificial  flowers  just  crossing  the  street.  Shall  I  teli 
Tom  to  run  after  him  1" 

"  Do,  do,  child,"  says  Mrs.  James,  "  he  is  the  very  per- 
son I  want ;  he  is  just  come  in  time — I  want  both  a  flower 
and  a  necklace." 

"  What's  that  you  say,  wife,"  said  the  Squire,  who  was 
writing  at  a  small  table  in  the  corner  of  the  room,  "  what, 
more  trumpery !  you  have  half  ruined  me  this  month  as  it 
is.  Did  not  you  lay  out  eight  dollars  at  What-do-you-call- 
him's  shop  only  last  Monday,  and  I  saw  nothing  for  the 
money  but  a  few  yards  of  old  lace?"  ' 


Mrs.  J.  Old  lace !  why,  it  is  this  very  lace  I  am  plaiting 
on  my  gown.  Old,  do  you  call  it  ?  Why,  it  has  never  been 
wet  with  water  yet. " 

Squire  J.  Well,  I 'wish  you  could  be  content  to  dress 
like  Mrs.  Browne.  Do  you  see  any  lace,  any  trumpery 
about  her  !  all  is  plain,  neat,  and  decenu 

Mrs.  J.  Do  you  see  any  thing  that  is  not  handsome 
about  me  1 

Squire  J.  Don't  suppose  that  you  please  me  by  your 
finery.  I  had  rather  see  you  plain,  and  have  the  money 
in  my  pocket. 

Mrs.  J.  You  are  not  then  like  any  other  man  in  the  world. 
Would  you  have  me  disgrace  you  by  my  appearance? 

"  I  tell  you,  wife,"  said  the  Squire,  "  I  had  rather  save 
my  money." 

By  this  time  the  man  was  come  in  with  his  artificial 
flowers,  feathers  and  necklaces:  and  just  at  the  same  time 
the  Squire  was  called  out;  so  Mrs.  James  and  her  daugh- 
ters had  time  to  examine  the  contents  of  the  man's  box 
without  interruption, — trying  one  flower  and  then  another 
on  their  heads,  and  looking  at  themselves  in  the  glass. 
Having  made  choice  of  such  things  as  they  wished,  the 
next  business  was  to  beat  down  the  man's  price :  but  the 
man  being  obstinate,  Mrs.  James  became  excessively 
angry;  so  that  when  the  Squire  came  in  he  found  the 
house  in  such  confusion  that  he  was  glad  to  pay  the  man 
and  send  him  off. 

Now  all  being  quiet  again,  and  the  girls  seated  by  their 
mother's  side,  at.  work,  Mrs.  James  began  to  look  about  for 
her  son :  for  in  the  midst  of  the  bustle  master  William  had 
laid  his  Bible  down  and  ran  off  to  play.  "  Do  James,"  said 
she  to  her  husband,  "see  where  that  lad  is;  he  is  gone  off 
without  saying  his  verses,  or  writing  his  copy,  or  doing  any 
thing  else  which  he  should  have  done." 

The  Squire,  who  had  just  sat  down  to  his  writing,  got  up 
again,  and  looking  about  for  his  cane,  he  presently  brought 
the  boy  in,  and  laying  two  or  three  smart  strokes  over  his 
shoulders,  "  Let  me  see  you  leave  your  books  again,  and 
go  to  play,  my  gentleman,"  said  he,  "  and  I'll  give  you 
more  of  this  sauce,  f  can  tell  you." 

"  Why,  father,"  said  the  boy,  "  I  could  say  my  verses, 
and  my  spelling  too;  but  mother  was  so  busy  with  that 
feather  man,  that  it.  was  of  no  use  to  ask  her  to  hear  me,' 

7 


"  Well,"  says  Mrs.  James, "  if  you  could  say  your  verses 
then;  I  suppose  you  can  say  them  now." 

"  To  be  sure  I  can,  mother,"  said  tffe  boy ;  so  he  brought 
his  verses  to  her,  and  very  pretty  ones  they  \vere.  They 
were  from  Matt,  v,  43-45,  and  the  boy  said  them  very  well. 

Mrs.  Browne  was  just  thinking  whether  she  might  not 
put  in  a  word,  by  way  of  enforcing  on  the  boy  what  he  had 
just  repeated.  When  the  Squire,  jumping  up  from  his  desk, 
(to  which  he  had  again  seated  himself,]  said,  "  Wife-  I  for- 
got to  tell  you  that  the  vile  dog  Field  is  like  to  be  ruined." 

"Ruined  !"  says  Mrs.  James,  her  face  growing  red  with 
pleasure  ;  "  sure  that's  too  good  to  be  true." 

"  It  is  true,  however,  as  sure  as  I  am  here,"  answered 
the  Squire,  "  and  I  would  rather  have  lost  a  hundred  dol- 
lars out  of  my  pocket  than  it  should  not  be  so.  I  only 
ivish  it  had  happened  six  years  ago." 

"Is  it  Henry, Field  you  are  speaking  of?"  said  Mrs. 
Browne,  "  Poor  man,  I  never  heard  much  harm  of  him. — 
What  has  happened  now?" 

The  Squire  broke  out  more  violently  than  ever  against 
Field;  "  I  don't  know  what  has  happened  now,  I  only  hope 
he  may  go  to  jail.  I  know  he  did  me  an  ill  turn  six  years 
ago;  and  I  never  have  forgiven  him,  and  I  never  will." 

"No.  that  I  hope  you  never  will,"  says  Mrs.  James. 
"  the  low  fellow  !" 

"  But,"  says  Mrs.  B.,  "  without  entering  into  the  merits 
of  the  case;  Mrs.  James,  should  not  we  practise  forgive- 
ness to  each  other,  as  we  hope  to  be  forgiven  1  William," 
.said  she,  turning  to  the  boy,  "  what  passage  of  Scripture- 
were  you  just  now  repeating  ?  was  it  not  '  Love  your  ene- 
mies; bless  them  that  curse  you,  do  good  to  them  that  hate 
you,  and  pray  for  them  which  despitefull v  use  you,  and 
persecute  you;  that  ye  may  be  the  children  of  your  Father 
which  is  in  heaven ;  for  he  maketh  his  sun  to  rise  on  the 
evil  and  on  the  good,  and  sendeth  rain  on  the  just  and  on 
the  unjust  ?' :' 

Mrs.  James  interrupted  Mrs.  Browne,  by  saying,  "  Who 
told  you  this  news,  James?" 

Squire  J.  Why,  Leonard  told  me,  and  he  would  cer- 
tainly know. 

Mrs.  J.  To  be  sure  he  ought  to  know — but  I  still  fear 
it  is  too  good  news  to  be  true. 

Mrs.  Brofljne  said  no  more  upon  the  subject  of  Christian 
forgiveness,  and  the  matter,  was  dropped  for  that  time. 


Mrs.  James  kept  her  children  at  their  work  until  one 
o'clock,  for  she  was  very  anxious  to  make  them  industrious, 
and  then  they  all  sat  down  to  dinner:  after  which  the  young 
ones  went  into  another  room,  and  Mrs.  Browne  staid  with 
the  Squire  and  his  wife,  while  the  Squire  smoked  a  segar, 
and  took  a  glass  or  two  of  spirits  and  water. 

"  Well,"  says  Mrs.  James  to  Mrs.  Browne,  as  soon  as 
the  children  were  gone  out,  "  you  have  seen  our  way  of 
going  on.  We  do  most  days  as  we  have  done  to  day ;  and 
I  think  you  will  say  that  we  keep  our  children  to  their  books 
and  to  their  work  as  close  as  any  family  in  the  village." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Browne,  "  I  must  say  you  keep  them 
to  it  pretty  well." 

"And  I  think,"  continued  Mrs.  James,  "if  our  children 
go  wrong,  we  have  nothing  to  blame  ourselves  for."  To 
this  Mrs.  Browne  made  no  answer.  "  I  am  sure  I  have 
done  the  part  of  the  best  of  mothers/'  added  Mrs.  James. 
Mrs.  Browne  was  still  silent ;  upon  which,  the  Squire  taking 
the  segar  out  of  his  mouth,  and  shaking  the  ashes  upon  the 
table,  said,  "  Mrs.  Browne,  you  don't  speak;  have  you  any 
fault  to  find  with  my  wife's  management  of  her  children? 
I  am  sure  there  is  no  neglect  in  the  articles  of  religion, 
and  that's  what  you  are  very  particular  about,  I  know." 
'  Mrs.  B.  Why,  Squire,  it  is  not  altogether  prudent  to  be 
meddling  in  other  people's  concerns.  I  have  lived  long 
enough  in  the  world  to  know  that  such  a  mode  of  proceed- 
ing seldom  answers  any  good  purpose. 

"  Oh,"  says  Mrs.  James,  "  don't  be  afraid,  Mrs.  Browne, 
I  beg.  You'll  give  no  offence,  I  assure  you,  whatever  you 
say."  And  she  fidgeted  in  her  chair,  and  began  smooth- 
ing her  gown  over  her  knees,  and  fanning  herself  with 
her  pocket  handkerchief. 

Mrs.  Browne  thought  to  herself,  "  I  am  now  in  adifficulty: 
whether  I  speak  or  hold  my  tongue,  I  shall  give  offence. 
But  I  must  trust  to  God  to  show  me  what  is  right,  and  to 
bear  me  through.'.'  She  however  remained  silent  till  the 
Squire  again  pressed  her  to  say  if  she  had  seen  any  thing 
which  she  thought  amiss  in  the  management  of  the  children. 

"Why  Squire,"  said  she, "  it  is  an  old  saying,  that  the  one 
who  stands  by  sees  more  of  the  game  than  those  who  play." 

"True,  Mrs.  Browne,"  answered  the  Squire;  who,  to 
do  him  justice,  was  not,  at  least  on  this  occasion,  so  fiery 
as  his  wife  :  "  so  if  you  please,  let's  have  all  out." 

"  Well  then,"  says  Mrs.  Browne,  "  you  shall :  and  first 


10 

I  must  observe,  that  to  find  out  whether  we  are  going  on 
right  in  the  management  of  our  young  ones,  we  should 
consider  what  the  Bible  tells  us  of  the  nature  of  children, 
and  of  the  state  in  which  human  creatures  are  born  into 
this  world. 

"  True,"  said  the  Squire, "  that  stands  to  reason  Mrs.  B." 

"Now,  you  know,  Squire,  that  the  Bible  teaches  us,  that 
man's  nature  is  altogether  filthy  and  abominable;  and  that, 
before  he  is  renewed,  every  imagination  of  the  thoughts  of 
his  heart  is  only  evil  continually;  and  farther,  that  in  con- 
sequence of  his  exceeding  sinfulness,  every  man  born  into 
this  world  is  born  under  a  sentence  of  condemnation,  and  so 
remains  until  he  obtain  forgiveness  through  the  blood  of  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  is  made  clean  through  his  Spirit." 

Squirt.  Well,  all  that's  true  enough,  Mrs.  Browne. 

ffrx.  J.  And  so  I  suppose  you  think  our  children  have 
more  natural  sin  than  other  people's  children.  Where's 
your  Christian  charity  now,  Airs.  Browne? 

-)//>.  B.  I  do  not  suppose  they  have  more,  but  I  know 
fhey^  have  as  much,  because  we  are  told  in  the  Bible,  that 
there  is  none  jood,  no,  not  one  ;  they  are  altogether  sinful. 

Squire.  Wife,  why  do  you  interrupt  Mrs.  Browne?  hear 
what  she  has  to  say. 

M  -.  B.  I  had  not  much  to  say :  only  this,  that  the  nature* 
of  children  being  so  very  corrupt,  and  they  being  liable,  in 
consequence,  to  eternal  punishment,  it  has  ever  appeared 
to  me  to  be  the  first  duty  of  parents,  and  that  to  which  all 
other  concerns  should  give  way,  to  endeavour  by  every  pos- 
sible means,  to  fix  religious  principles  in  children's  minds. 
We  cannot  amend  our  children's  evil  natures — we  cannot 
give  them  new  hearts — w  >  cannot  give  them  faith,  fbr  faith 
is  the  gift  of  God,  the  work  of  the  Holy  Spirit ;  but  we 
may  give  them  religious  instruction,  and  set  before  them 
such  examples  of  holy  living,  as  we  hope  with  God's  bless- 
ini,  they  themselves  will  )e  enabled  to  imitate. 

'/-..  /.  Well,  and  don't  we  give  our  children  religious 
instruction?  Why.  Mrs.  B.  sure  your  memory  is  very  short! 

M  -.  B.  It  is  one  thin  j,  Mrs.  J.,  to  teach  our  children 
catechisms,  hymns,  an  I  texts  of  Scripture :  and  it  is  another 
vhing  to  show  them,  by  our  example,  that  we  are  striving  to 
conform  our  lives  to  that  pure  word  of  God,  which  we  cause 
them  to  learn.  Children  take  more  notice  of  what  passes 
than  we  think.  They  soon  fin  ;  out  when  the  practice  of 
their  parents  agrees  not  with  the  lessons  they  teach. 

71 


11 

I  don't  understand  you,  Mrs.  B.,  you  must  speak  plainer 
if  you  wish  me  to  be  better  for  what  you  have  to  say,  said 
Mrs.  J.,  fanning  herself  more  violently. 

Mrs.  B.  The  Bible  is  given  us  as  a  rule  of  life,  and  of 
faith.  Now,  as  I  said  before,  it  is  of  little  use  to  teach 
our  children  to  read  the  Bible  and  to  learn  it  by  heart, 
unless  we  also  point  out  to  them  the  necessity  of  their 
being  guided  by  it.  The  holy  Scriptures  contain  both 
precepts  and  promises :  but  unless  we  ourselves  submit  to 
these  precepts,  we  have  no  right  to  expect  the  accomplish- 
ment with  regard  to  our  children. 

Squire  J.  All  this  is  true  enough,  Mrs.  B.;  but  what 
has  all  this  to  do  with  our  children  ?  Come  to  the  poinl 
my  good  woman.  What  have  you  observed  to  day  where- 
in our  practice  goes  against  the  Bible  lessons  which  our 
children  have  learned  'I 

Mrs.  B.  Your  three  children  had  three  different  lessons 
set  them  to  day  from  the  Bible. 

Well,  and  so  they  had,  Mrs.  B.,  said  Mrs.  J. 

Mrs.  B.  The  first  contained  a  command  to  those  who  had 
this  world's  goods,  to  help  the  poor  and  needy;  and  while 
your  little  girl  was  repeating  the  passage,  a  poor  woman 
came  and  asked  alms.  There  was  a  good  opportunity  of 
showing  the  child,  by  your  practice,  that  you  believed  the 
words  she  had  just  repeated  to  be  the  words  of  God,  and 
that  you  wished  to  manifest  a  ready  obedience  to  them. 

Mrs.  J.  And  so  I  am  to  give  to  every  idle  vagabond 
that  comes  to  the  house,  for  examples  to  the  children  ! — 
In  such  a  case  I  should  soon  be  in  a  way  to  ask  charity 
myself,  I  believe. 

Mrs.  B.  No  one  was  ever  poorer  for  giving  to  those  who 
want;  "for  he  that  giveth  to  the  poor  lendeth  to  the  Lord." 

Mrs.  J.  And  I  suppose  I  did  wrong  too  in  buying  those 
flowers  and  necklaces,  because  in  Charlotte's  verses  wo- 
men are  forbidden  to  put  on  ornaments  and  finery  !  And 
my  husband  also  did  wrong,  perhaps,  in  rejoicing  over  the 
punishment  of  that  vile  fellow,  Field ;  because,  forsooth, 
we  ought  to  do  good  to  them  that  curse  us,  as  William  had 
it  written  in  his  lesson  to  day !  Why,  at  that  rate,  we 
must  give  up  the  world  altogether,  and  be  quite  different 
from  other  folks. 

"Certainly,"  said  Mrs.  B.,  "  we  must  either  serve  Gorl 
or  mammon.  We  cannot  serve  both." 

"  You  are  going  too  far  now,  Mrs.  B.,"  said  the  Squire. 


12 

"  It  was  never  intended  that  we  should  keep  so  close  to 
the  Bible  as  you  would  make  out.  My  wife  and  I  are  not 
Methodists.  We  never  set  up  for  that ;  nor  did  we  ever 
pretend  to  despise  the  world." 

Mrs.  B.  looked  grave,  and  answered,  I  have  no  more  to 
say,  sir,  than  this,  that  if  you  trust  in  God,  and  serve  him 
sincerely,  he  will  never  forsake  you,  nor  your  children  : 
but  if  you  strive  to  make  the  world  your  friend,  you  must 
expect  that  things  will  not  be  with  you  as  you  could  wish, 
Remember  the  sweet  passage  in  the  Psalms :  "  Oh  ye  seed 
of  Abraham  his  servant,  ye  children  of  Jacob  his  chosen, 
he  is  the  Lord  our  God ;  his  judgments  are  in  all  the  earth. 
He  hath  remembered  his  covenant  for  ever,  the  word  which 
he  commanded  to  a  thousand  generations — which  covenant 
he  made  with  Abraham,  and  his  oatli  unto  Isaac ;  and  con- 
firmed the  same  unto  Jacob  for  a  law,  and  to  Israel  for  an 
everlasting  covenant ;  saying,  Unto  thee  will  I  give  the  land 
of  Canaan,  the  lot  of  your  inheritance  ;  when  they  were 
but  a  few  men  in  number ;  yea,  very  few,  and  strangers  in 
it.  When  they  went  from  one  nation  to  another,  from  one 
kingdom  to  another  people,  he  suffered  no  man  to  do  them 
wrong:  yea,  he  reproved  kings  for  their  sakes;  saying, 
Touch  not  mine  anointed,  and  do  my  prophets  no  harm," 
Psa.  cv,  6-15.  It  is  better  to  have  the  blessing  of  God  for- 
our  children,  than  the  favour  of  the  whole  world. 

The  Squire  looked  grave  as  if  weighing  Mrs.  B.'s  words: 
but  Mrs.  J.  replied,  "  Well,  Mrs.  B.,  you  and  I  can  never 
agree,  I  perceive,  on  this  matter ;  so  we  had  better  let  it 
rest.  I  don't  wish  to  see  my  children  Methodists,  I  can't 
say  I  do."  Whereupon  she  got  up  and'  began  stirring  about 
the  room  as  if  very  busy. 

The  Squire  put  his  segar  in  his  mouth,  and  Mrs.  B.  took 
her  work.  Soon  after  Mrs.  B.  said,  "  I  must  now  be  going, 
to  get  my  husband's  tea,"  and  Mrs.  J.  not  pressing  her  to 
stay  as  she  would  have  done  at  another  time,  Mrs.  B.  went 
home.  And  glad  enough  she  was  to  find  herself  again  in 
her  own  room,  with  this  comfortable  reflection,  that  she  had 
been  enabled,  by  God's  grace,  to  deal  sincerely  with  Mr, 
and  Mrs.  J.,  though  she  feared  with  but  little  good  effect. 


PUBLISHED    BT    N.    BANGS    AND    J.    EMORY, 

fix  flio  Tract  Society  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  at  the  Conference 
Office,  14  Crosby-street,  New-York. 

JKor  Htyt,  Ptfnten 


»TO.  72. 


1  Oh,  then,  that  little  book  will  bo  the  very  thing  for  him,"  said  the  giddy  girl. 
a  pray  be  euro  to  give  it  to  him." — Page  3. 


THE  PENNY  TRACT. 

''  i  NOT  many  years  ago,  at  the  time  when  religious  people 
^  first  began  to  write  tracts  for  the  poor,  two  young  ladies 
were  sitting  one  morning  in  July  in  an  arbour  in  their 
lather's  garden.  The  weather  was  clear  and  fine,  and 
1  they  were  shaded  from  the  burning  rays  of  the  sun,  by  the 
honey  suckles  which  covered  the  lattice  work  of  the  arbour, 
and  shed  abroad  their  sweet  smell  throughout  the  garden. 
These  young  ladies  were  not  employed  in  useful  works  for 
their  own  family,  because  their  parents  were  rich,  and 
could  afford  to  employ  others  to  work  for  them ;  neither 
were  they  engaged  in  working  for  the  poor,  for,  having 
felt  no  troubles  and  wants  themselves,  they  had  no  feeling 
for  the  wants  of  others.  Nor  can  I  give  much  account  of 
what  they  were  doing,  though  they  had  a  table  before  them 
covered  with  books  and  pencils,  and  work  bags  and  boxes. 
Now,  while  they  were  thus  idling  those  precious  hours, 
which  might  have  been  "  devoted  in  so  many  ways  to  the. 
service  of  God,"  they  saw  an  old  man  with  a  basket  on  his 
arm,  walk  into  the  garden,  and  come  towards  them :  he 
was  neatly  dressed,  and  had  a  grave  and  decent  aspect;  he 
came  up  close  to  the  arbour,  and,  making  a  low  bow,  said. 
"  Ladies,  will  you  please  to  buy  some  tracts  ?"  "  Tracts," 


repeated  the  elder  of  the  sisters,  "  what  are  those?  but  I 
see,"  added  she,  "  you  are  a  hawker,  and  go  about,  I  sup- 
pose, retailing  two-penny  books  and  songs  up  and  down 
the  country  ;  no  doubt  your  basket  is  full  of  all  manner  of 
wicked  trash ;  such  persons  as  you  do  great  mischief,  and 
ouijht  to  be  taken  up  and  punished." 

"  Lady,"  said  the  old  man,  meekly,  "  if  you  will  be 
uleased  to  look  at  my  books,  you  will  find  that  they  are 
not  such  as  you  speak  of.  There  was  a  time,  I  will  honestly 
say,  when  I  got  iny  bread  by  selling  such  profane  books 
and  ballads  as  you  allude  to ;  but  about  three  years  ago,  I 
met  with  a  godly  lady,  who  laid  before  me  the  wretched- 
ness of  my  way  of  life.  This  lady,"  proceeded  he,  "  told 
me  that  I  should  be  doing  less  harm  if  I  were  to  go  about 
poisoning  every  brook  and  fountain  in  the  land  than  I  did 
in  retailing  such  writings  as  infused  poison  into  the  heart : 
those  were  her  very  words ;  I  should  never  forget  them, 
if  I  were  to  live  to  be  a  hundred  years  old ;  and  moreover," 
added  he,  "  this  lady  had  the  goodness  to  direct  me  to  a 
place  where  I  could  get  religious  tracts  and  holy  songs  for 
sale ;  so  I  followed  her  advice,  and  have  pursued  the  trade 
ever  since." 

Having  thus  spoken,  the  hawker  took  a  few  of  his  best 
tracts  out  of  his  basket,  and  offered  them  to  the  young  lady, 
"  And  what  are  we  to  do  with  them?"  said  she,  carelessly 
glancing  her  eye  upon  them,  as  the  old  man  held  them 
before  her.  "  Give  them  to  your  poor  neighbours,  or  your 
servants,  lady,  if  you  have  no  use  for  them  yourself,"  an- 
swered the  hawker.  "Our  neighbours,"  replied  she, 
"  would  not  thank  us  for  them,  unless  it  were  in  default  of 
chips,  when  there  was  any  haste  to  light  a  fire."  "  Lady !" 
said  the  old  man,  gravely,  "  these  books  contain  many  holy 
words."  "  Very  likely,"  she  answered,  "  but  if  no  one 
reads  those  holy  words  who  will  be  the  better  for  them  ?" 
"  And  wherefore  should  you  suppose,  lady,"  asked  the 
hawker,  "  that  no  one  would  read  them  1  I  have  been 
employed  in  selling  books  of  this  kind  for  three  years,  and 
I  know  that  many  read  them,  and  take  infinite  "delight  in 
them ;  and  I  have  actually  known  several  who  have  gone 
without  a  meal  to  procure  one  of  them."  "  I  see,"  said 
the  younger  sister,  smiling,  "  that  you  understand  your 
business,  my  good  man :  your  books  will  not  I'.e  in  your 
basket  for  want  of  your  good  word,  at  any  rate." 


"Lady,"  replied  the  old  man,  "  I  do  not  offer  you  such 
wares  as  you  cannot  form  a  judgment  of  yourselves ;  only 
read  one  or  two  of  my  tracts,  and,  if  you  approve  of  their 
contents,  bestow  them  upon  your  poor  neighbours;  they 
will  assuredly  read  them,  and  if  you  do  not  presently  see 
the  good  effects  of  your  kindness,  they  may  nevertheless 
appear  hereafter ;  for  it  is  so  written, '  Cast  thy  bread  upon 
the  waters,  and  after  many  days  thou  shalt  find  it.'" 

The  young  ladies  seemed  inclined  to  be  diverted  by 
every  thing  the  old  man  said,  and  one  of  them  happening 
to  have  a  penny  wrapped  up  in  paper  in  her  netting  box, 
tossed  it  carelessly  into  his  basket,  saying,  that  she  hoped 
to  have  one  of  his  best  articles  in  return.  The  old  man 
took  the  penny  in  his  hand,  bowed,  and,  sitting  his  basket 
down,  chose  one  of  his  best  tracts  (the  title  of  which  was 
the  Day  of  Judgment,)  which  he  placed  respectfully  on 
the  table,  and,  taking  up  the  basket,  walked  away. 

The  young  ladies  had  amused  themselves  some  min'ites 
with  laughing  at  the  old  man  and  his  tracts,  when  a  mise- 
rably ragged  woman,  carrying  a  sickly  infant  in  her  arms, 
presented  herself  at  the  garden  gate,  and  began  to  ask  alms 
In  a  whining  and  sorrowful  voice.  The  young  ladies  were 
too  much  engaged  with  their  own  idle  and  merry  conceits 

I  to  observe  this  poor  creature,  who  opened  thp  gate  and 
came  up  the  gravel  walk  towards  the  arbour,  as  the  hawker 
had  done  before.  As  soon  as  the  sisters  perceived  this 
miserable  object,  they  screamed,  as  if  they  had  been  fright- 
ened :  and  then  laughed  at  their  own  ridiculous  fears.  The 
>  poor  woman,  who  was  too  much  taken  up  by  her  own  dis- 
tresses k>  regard  either  the  affected  screams  or  the  laugh- 
ter of  the  young  people,  now  renewed  her  entreaties  for 
charity,  upon  \\hich  the  elder  lady  tossed  her  sixpence, 
and  the  other  looking  archly  at  her  sister,  held  out  the 
newly  purchased  tract  to  the  beggar,  saying,  "  There,  take 
that  home  :  it  is  to  do  you  a  vast  deal  of  good,  how  much 
I  cannot  tell  you."  The  poor  woman  received  the  little 
book  as  seriously  as<she  supposed  it  had  been  offered  to 
her,  and,  making  a  courtesy,  she  answered,  "I  cannot  read, 
miss ;  more  is  the  pity ;  but  my  husband  is  an  extraordi- 
nary good  scholar."  "  Oh,  then,  that  little  book  will  be 
the  very  thing  for  him,"  said  the  giddy  girl,  "  so  pray  be 
sure  to  give  it  to  him." 

The  poor  beggar,  as  I  have  before  remarked,  was  by  no 


ineans  aware  that  these  young  ladies  were  jesting  with  her ; 
but  if  she  had  been,  it  ought  to  have  made  no  difference 
in  her  opinion  of  the  value  of  the  tract — for  that  which  is 
good  would  remain  good  still,  though  all  the  world  were 
to  unite  in  saying  it  is  nought ;  and  that  which  is  evil 
would  be  evil  still,  though  earth  and  hell  were  joined  to- 
gether to  say  it  is  not  so ;  therefore  those  will  assuredly 
be  confounded  and  brought  to  shame  at  last,  who  call  good 
evil,  and  evil  good.  Now  this  little  book  which  the  lady 
had  put  into  the  hand  of  the  beggar,  was  full  of  precious 
matter,  and  many  rich  quotations  from  the  word  of  God  ; 
and  as  the  prophet  Elijah  did  not  find  the  meat  which  the 
Lord  sent  him  in  the  wilderness,  less  acceptable,  because 
it  was  brought  to  him  by  the  ravens  rather  than  the  doves, 
neither  did  this  little  volume  lose  aught  of  its  real  value, 
by  passing  into  the  possession  of  the  beggar  through  pro- 
fane hands. 

But  to  leave  these  reflections,  and  return  to  my  story. 
The  poor  woman  was  so  well  pleased  with  what  she  had 
obtained  from  these  ladies,  that  sHe  made  her  best  court- 
esy, and  turned  her  steps  towards  her  miserable  home : 
but  as  she  begged  at  the  door  of  every  house  she  passec 
by  the  way,  it  was  the  afternoon  before  she  reached  he. 
cottage.  Tho  dwelling  of  this  poor  woman  was  a  house  1 
on  the  borders  of  a  common,  which  had  been  originally 
well  built,  was  sufficiently  roomy,  and  stood  in  a  spacious 
patch  of  ground,  where  several  fruit  trees  remained  ;  but, 
notwithstanding  all  those  advantages,  the  idleness  and  vice 
of  its  present  owner  had  rendered  this  place  a  scene  of  ruin, 
desolation,  and  filth.  The  garden  had  been  so  long  ne- 
glected, that  it  was  become  a  wilderness ;  the  broken  win- 
dows were  stuffed  with  rags ;  part  of  the  chimney  had 
fallen ;  the  thatch  was  out  of  repair :  and,  in  short,  every 
thing,  both  within  and,without  this  miserable  habitation, 
bespoke  the  poverty,  slovenliness,  and  idleness  of  its 
inhabitants.  The  name  of  the  man  who  possessed  this 
tenement  was  Francis  Downes,  the  husband  of  the  poor 
beggar  woman  before  mentioned ;  he  was  an  excellent 
workman  when  he  chose  to  work,  and  pretended  to  make 
a  living  by  cutting  fruit  trees,  and  jobbing  about. in  differ- 
ent gardens ;  but  these  were  only  pretences,  for  what  he 
gained  in  these  honest  ways  was  a  mere  trifle,  whilst  the 
greater  part  of  his  livelihood  was,  in  fact,  obtained  by 


poaching  and  pilfering.  This  man,  about  four  years  before, 
had  married  a  servant  maid  in  a  farm  house.  The  woman 
was  a  poor  ignorant  simple  creature,  who  might,  in  good 
hands,  have  made  a  quiet,  tidy  wife ;  but  she  was  by  no 
means  fit  to  have  to  do  with  such  a  man  as  Frank  Downes. 
This  poor  creature  he  had  often  reduced  to  the  extre- 
mities of  want;  for,  as  his  gains  were  uncertain,  his  whole 
Jife  was  a  round  of  feasts  and  fasts,  days  of  riot,  and  long 
periods  of  distress  and  penury.  Poor  Mary  Downes  felt 
her  misery,  but  did  not  know  how  to  set  about  mending  her 
situation,  for  she  was  ignorant  of  her  duties  as  a  good 
house  wife  or  prudent  mother  ;  and  it  was  not  likely  that 
she  should  acquire  the  knowledge  of  these  duties,  under 
a  man  who  kept  her  in  a  constant  state  of  fear  and  distress 
of  mind.  With  respect  to  religion,  this  poor  creature 
knew  about  as  much  as  is  generally  known  by  the  lower 

*  order  of  servants  in  farm  houses  ;  and  that,  I  am  sorry  to 
say,  is  generally  little  enough.  Since  her  unhappy  mar- 
riage, she  had  laid  one  of  her  little  ones  in  its  grave,  and 

,  she  was  often  much  distressed  by  the  sickly  appearance 
of  the  child  she  carried  in  her  arms,  for,  though  helpless 
and  ignorant,  she  was  a  tender  mother. 

About  a  week  before  the  time  of  which  I  am  speaking, 
Francis  Downes  had  put  out  his  ankle  in  one  of  his  nightly 

(I  'excursions,  and  having  been,  in  consequence,  closely  con- 

»  fined  at  home,  and  unable  to  work,  he  had  made  the 
house  appear  to  his  wife  more  wretched  than  ever.  They 

-  had  also,  at  this  time,  been  reduced  to  such  distress,  as 
they  had  no  credit,  and  never  could  contrive  to  have  a 
penny  beforehand,  that  they  had  no  resource  left  but  to 
apply  to  the  parish  or  beg.  Now  Francis  Downes  knew 
that  he  had  so  ill  a  name  with  the  parish  officers,  that,  if  he 
applied  for  relief,  they  would  compel  him  to  sell  his  small 
house  and  bit  of  land,  and  perhaps  force  him  to  go  with 
his  wife  into  the  house  of  industry;  he  therefore' resolved 
that  he  would  not,  if  he  could  avoid  it,  ask  them  for  help. 
But,  as  they  could  not  starve,  he  told  his  wife  that  she 
must  go  a  begging,  and  make  as  good  a  story  for  herself 
as  she  could.  The  poor  woman  had  suffered  so  much 
ever  since  her  husband  had  been  confined  at  home,  by  his 
harsh  and  cruel  usage,  that  she  was  not  sorry  to  get  out 
of  his  way  for  a  short  time,  though  it  were  for  the  pur- 
pose of  picking  up  a  few  pence,  or  a  little  broken  meat 


by  begging ;  and  being,  as  I  have  before  remarked,  ex- 
tremely ignorant  and  simple,  she  had  no  idea  of  the  dis- 
gracefulness  of  endeavouring  to  remove  her  distress  in  this 
way.  She  had  been  begging  several  days  in  different  di- 
rections with  little  success,  but,  on  the  day  of  which  we 
are  now  speaking,  she  was  more  fortunate,  and  returned 
home  very  well  satisfied  with  what  she  had  acquired. 

Francis  Downes  was  sitting  at  the  door  cutting  a  cork 
to  make  a  float  for  his  fishing  line,  when  he  saw  his  wife 
come  up  to  the  gate.  He  saluted  her,  as  his  usual  custom 
was,  with  an  oath  or  some  abusive  epithet;  and,  asking 
her  where  she  had  been  lugging  the  child,  demanded  what 
she  had  brought  back  with  her.  "  More  than  you  deserve," 
she  answered,  with  more  spirit  than  usual,  showing  him  a 
quantity  of  broken  meat  which  she  had  fastened  up  in  her 
apron,  and  a  few  halfpence  tied  up  in  an  old  rag ;  as  to 
the  silver  sixpence  which  the  ladies  had  given  her,  she 
kept  that  for  herself  and  child,  at  some  future  time  of  need. 
The  man  was  well  satisfied  with  what  his  wife  had  given, 
and,  getting  up  and  hobbling  into  the  house,  he  heaped  a 
few  sticks  on  the  fire,  and  sat  down  with  her  to  sup  on 
what  she  had  brought. 

Whilst  they  were  enjoying  the  broken  meats,  for  they 
were  very  hungry,  the  wife  bethought  herself  of  the  book, 
and,  taking  it  from  her  pocket,  she  gave  it  to  her  husband, 
repeating  the  lady's  words.  He  laid  down  a  bone  which 
he  was  picking,  and,  taking  the  book  between  his  finger 
and  thumb,  he  looked  at  the  title,  shook  his  head,  and 
then  dexterously  tossed  the  tract  from  him  upon  a  dresser, 
at  the  other  end  of  the  room,  and  would,  no  doubt,  have 
thrown  it  farther,  could  he  have  done  so  without  getting  up. 

"  Don't  you  like  it,  Frank  7"  said  his  wife.  "  Why 
what's  it  about,  that  you  are  so  angry  with  it  7"  asked  she, 
"what's  the  subject  of  it?"  "No  matter  4"  replied  the  man, 
"  at  any  rate  it  is  no  business  of  yours."  The  poor  woman 
did  not  dare  to  ask  any  more  questions  about  the  book, 
though  she  still  felt  some  respect  for  it,  from  what  the 
ladies  had  said  ;  accordingly,  when  she  was  putting  away 
the  things,  after  they  had  done  their  supper,  she  took  the 
tract  from  the  upper  part  of  the  dresser,  and  put  it  into  one 
of  the  drawers. 

The  next  day,  Frank  Downes,  being  tired  of  staying  at 
-home,  thought  he  might  make  shift  to  hobble  to  a  pond. 


which  vvas  in  a  wood  not  far  off,  to  lay  lines  for  fishing ; 
accordingly  he  set  out  about  five  in  the  morning,  but,  com- 
ing to  an  uneven  part  of  the  common,  he  stumbled  and 
fell,  and,  spraining  his  ankle  a  second  time,  he  lay  in  dread- 
ful pain,  till  a  carter  passing  by  with  an  empty  cart,  had 
the  charity  to  take  him  up  and  bring  him  home.  His  wife 
had  some  trouble  to  get  him  to  bed,  and  he  groaned  dread- 
fully with  the  pain,  whilst  an  old  neighbour,  who  was  very 
clever  in  such  matters,  fomented  his  ankle;  the  pain,  after 
a  while,  was  much  less,  but  his  foot  remained  so  swollen 
and  weak,  that  it  was  necessary  for  him  to  be  constantly 
upon  his  bed.  He  was  now,  therefore,  forced  to  make  up 
his  mind  to  stay  at  home,  whilst  he  sent  his  wife  again 
about  the  country  to  pick  up  what  she  could  get  by  begging. 
The  bed  on  which  Frank  Downes  lay  was  in  the  lower 
story,  and  in  the  outer  room,  for  the  up  stairs'  rooms  had 
been  for  some  time  uninhabited,  by  reason  of  the  rain 
which  in  every  part  made  its  way  through  the  roof;  in 
consequence  of  which  the  thoughtless  pair,  instead  of  get- 
ting the  thatch  repaired,  had  removed  their  bed  to  the 
lower  floor.  Frank  accordingly,  when  his  wife  was  out, 
was  left  lying  in  the  kitchen,  being  scarcely  able  to  crawl 
from  the  bed  to  the  dresser,  on  which  the  poor  woman  took 
care  to  leave  his  victuals. 

•  The  first  day  of  her  absence  he  strove  to  amuse  himself 
with  mending  his  fishing  tackle,  and  in  this  manner  he 
made  shift  to  pass  the  time  till  his  wife  came  back ;  but 
the  next  day  he  could  find  no  such  handy  job,  and  he  lay 
from  seven  o'clock  in  the  morning,  at  which  time  she  went 
out,  quite  alone,  and  having  nothing  but  his  own  thoughts 
to  amuse  him.  Now,  unless  a  man  enjoys  peace  with 
God,  through  the  blood  and  merits  of  his  dying  Saviour,  it 
is  seldom  that  he  can  find  much  satisfaction  in  discoursing 
with  his  own  thoughts.  These  indeed,  were  companions 
of  which  Frank  Downes  was  never  very  fond,  and  they 
were  particularly  disagreeable  to  hi.n  now,  when  he  con- 
sidered into  what  a  situation  he  had  brought  himself.  At 
length,  being  unable  to  bear  his  own  reflections  any  longer, 
he  made  shift  to  get  up,  and,  hobbling  to  the  dresser,  he 
opened  the  very  drawer  into  which  his  wife  had  put  the 
tract ;  in  this  drawer,  Frank  Downes  was  used  to  keep  a 
roll  of  old  ballads,  with,  which  he  thought  he  might  now 
puss  a  little  time. 

72 


8 

The  drawer,  besides  the  tract  so  often  mentioned,  con- 
tained an  assortment  of  dirty  rags,  combs,  and  onions, 
with  such  other  stores  of  the  like  nature,  as  sluttish  house 
wives  are  apt  to  collect  in  the  drawers  of  dressers  and 
other  convenient  repositories.  Frank  Downes  turned  this 
rubbish  over  and  over  with  one  hand,  whilst,  in  order  to 
ease  his  lame  foot,  he  leaned  on  the  dresser  with  the  other, 
but  all  in  vain ;  the  ballads  could  not  be  found ;  at  length, 
cursing  his  wife  for  her  carelessness,  and  looking  round 
almost  in  despair  for  something  with  which  he  might  pass 
away  the  time,  his  eye  again  fell  upon  the  tract  which  lay 
in  the  drawer ;  and  though  his  nand  had  rejected  it  seve- 
ral times  whilst  looking  for  the  ballads,  and  notwithstand- 
ing the  title  was  very  far  from  being  tempting  to  such  a 
man  as  he  then  was,  yet  so  hard  pressed  was  he  for  some- 
thing to  do,  that,  he  took  it  up,  and,  hobbling  in  great  pain, 
back  to  his  bed,  he  threw  himself  down  again  in  a  very  ill 
humour. 

Frank  Downes  lay,  for  a  while,  without  looking  at  the 
little  book  which  he  held  in  his  hand ;  but  rinding  his 
thoughts  again  getting  very  troublesome,  he  at  length  had 
recourse  to  it.  The  tract  was  written  in  a  plain  manner, 
and  gave  a  simple  account  of  man's  fall,  and  of  his  redemp- 
tion by  God  the  Son.  It  also  spoke  of  man's  depravity, 
and  of  the  manner  in  which  his  heart  was  changed,  and 
purified  by  the  Holy  Spirit.  Much  also  was  to  be  found 
in  this  little  book  upon  that  grand  and  delightful  subject, 
the  love  of  God  the  Father,  for  his  creatures ;  and  this 
affecting  question  and  answer  was  put,  "  Which  among 
you  would  give  his  son  to  die  for  his  friend  1"  "  Yet  God 
so  loved  the  world  that  he  gave  his  only  begotten  Son  to 
die  for  it,  even  when  it  lay  in  open  rebellion  agajnst  him." 
It  also  treated  of  the  day  of  judgment,  of  heaven  and  hell, 
and  pointed  out  somewhat  more  largely  how  one  might  be 
obtained,  and  the  other  avoided.  In  short,  this  little  book 
contained  much  divine  wisdom,  and,  had  it  been  valued  at 
a  thousand  guineas  instead  of  a  penny,  it  would  have  been 
rated  infinitely  below  its  value — that  is,  if  we  consider  the 
good  that  it  was  the  means,  under  Providence,  of  convey- 
ing to  the  soul  of  the  poor  sinner. 

Frank  Downes  was  a  ready  reader,  and  therefore  he  was 
no  great  time  in  perusing  the  little  treatise  from  beginning 
to  end ;  and,  when  he  had  finished  it,  he  threw  it  from  him., 


Using,  at  the  same  time,  one  of  his  profane  expression. 
But,  although  the  poor  man  could  throw  away  the  book,  it 
was  well  for  him  that  he  could  not  so  easily  throw  away 
the  ideas  which  the  book  had  just  put  into  his  head ;  though 
he  did  his  utmost  to  get  rid  of  them.  Nevertheless,  they 
worked  upon  him  in  such  a  way  that  ke  presently  became, 
as  it  were,  like  a  raging  lion  or  bear,  and  the  weariness  of 
his  mind  was,  in  comparisqn,  far  greater  than  the  pain  of 
his  ankle. 

It  would  take  a  much  longer  space  than  I  have  to  spare, 
to  describe,  at  full  length,  the  manner  in  which  this  little 
tract,  with  the  divine  blessing,  wrought  on  this  man's  mind ; 
it  made  him  at  first,  as  I  have  just  said,  quite  angry,  and 
he  showed  his  anger  by  raging  at  all  religion  and  religious 
books  and  people  whatever.  In  this  humour  he  remained 
several  days,  till,  his  anger  being  in  some  measure  spent, 
he  became  very  low,  and  then  it  pleased  the  Lord  to  visit 
him  with  a  deep  conviction  of  sin.  At  this  time  he  took 
up  the  tract  again,  reading  it  over  and  over,  and  calling  to 
mind  all  his  sins  and  transgressions ;  and  such,  at  length, 
was  the  horror  and  despair  which  he  manifested,  that  his 
poor  wife,  not  knowing  what  else  to  do,  called  the  minis- 
|er  to  him. 

Now  it  happened  that  the  minister  was  a  truly  pious  man, 
who  knew  that  the  foundations  of  true  religion  must  be  laid 
in  deep  humility,  and  that  a  man  must  feel  the  burthen  of 
i  his  sins,  before  he  can  be  brought  to  lay  hold  of  the  Sa- 
viour. He  therefore  went  to  work  in  the  right  way,  and 
endeavoured,  with  the  divine  help,  to  give  the  poor  man  a 
still  more  clear  idea  of  the  dreadful  nature  of  sia,  and  of 
the  lost  and  undone  state  of  all  mankind  by  nature.  He 
then  proceeded  to  show  him  more  plainly  what  the  Saviour 
had  done  for  sinners,  assuring  him,  at  the  same  time,  that, 
unless  he  were  willing  to  give  up  all  his  sins,  he  never 
could  have  any  interest  in  Christ.  He  also  explained  to 
him  more  largely  the  offices  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  the 
powers  which  it  possessed  of  cleansing  and  purifying  the 
heart.  Thus  the  good  minister  discoursed  with  the  poor 
man  while  still  confined  to  his  bed,  and  opened  his  mind 
upon  many  points  of  doctrine  to  which  he  had  never  be- 
fore given  a  thought ;  he  also  gave  him  a  Bible,  and  lent 
him  several  good  books. 

Notwithstanding  the  frequent  visits  of  the  minister,  it 
72 


10 

was  some  time  before  it  pleased  the  Lord  to  give  Frank 
Downes  even  so  much  light  or  comfort,  as  to  enable  him 
to  conceive  it  possible  for  him  to  be  saved ;  but,  after  a 
while,  hope  broke  in  upon  him,  and  he  became  possessed 
of  much  peace  of  mind.  During  the  former  part  of  the 
time  in  which  he  lay  under  conviction,  he  made  his  wife 
more  miserable  than  ever ;  but,  when  he  began  to  have  a 
sense  of  the  divine  favour,  and  to  conceive  that  he  was  not 
altogether  a  lost  one,  his  manner  became  more  gentle,  and 
his  poor  wife  and  infant  soon  began  to  feel  the  benefit  of  the 
change  which  had  passed  upon  him.  But  not  to  lengthen 
out  this  story  too  far,  I  must  say,  in  a  few  words,  that  it 
pleased  the  Almighty  that  the  little  tract,  sent  by  the  young 
ladies  to  this  poor  man,  should  be  the  beginning  of  a  very 
great  change  in  him ;  and  thus  the  Lord  often  blesses  a 
very  small  thing  to  the  production  of  some  mighty  work. 
As  soon  as  Frank  Downes  was  able  to  walk,  he  went  to 
return  his  thanks  to  the  minister  for  his  kindness,  and  to 
consult  him  concerning  his  future  mode  of  life.  Frank 
Downes  was  most  kindly  received  by  the  minister,  who 
rejoiced  to  see  so  good  a  work  begun  and  going  on,  as  he 
hoped,  in  the  heart  of  this  poor  man  who  had  hitherto 
been  reckoned  the  worst  character  in  the  neighbourhood. 
The  minister  took  this  occasion  to  point  out  to  him  the 
necessity  under  which  he  lay,  in  order  to  prove  his  calling, 
of  leaving  all  his  evil  habits,  and  of  endeavouring  to  pro- 
cure his  livelihood  in  an  honest  way.  Moreover,  he  brought 
forward  to  him  this  verse — "  A  good  tree  cannot  bring 
forth  evil  fruit,  neither  can  a  corrupt  tree  bring  forth  good 
fruit ;  every  tree  that  bringeth  not  forth  good  fruit  is  hewn 
down  and  cast  into  the  fire,  wherefore  by  their  fruils  ye 
shall  know  them."  Frank  Downes  promised  the  minister, 
that  he  would  never  again  have  a  hand  in  any  thing  unlaw- 
ful ;  and  I  am  happy  to  say  that  grace  was  given  him  to 
enable  him  to  keep  this  resolution;  and,  although  it  was 
some  time  before  he  could  get  into  a  regular  and  profita- 
ble way  of  business,  yet  he  never  fell  again  into  his  old 
evil  courses,  though  he  afterwards  confessed  he  had  many 
temptations  to  do  so.  Thus  the  Almighty,  who  had  so  re- 
markably and  through  such  slender  mean's  commenced  this 
mighty  work  of  restoring  a  wandering  sinner  to  himself, 
failed  not,  by  degrees,  to  bring  his  work  to  perfection. 
It  would  take  much  more  time  than  I  have  to  spare  to 


11 

give  an  account  of  the  happy  change  which  took  place  iu 
the  house  and  family  of  Francis  Downes,  after  he  became 
pious.  How  true  are  the  words  of  the  Holy  Scriptures, 
"  Godliness  is  profitable  to  all  things,  having  promise  of 
the  life  that  now  is,  and  of  that  which  is  to  come."  What  a 


valuable  pennyworth  was  that  which  the  ladies  sent  to  Fran- 
cis Downes  !  For,  as  I  said  before,  it  was  certainly  the  means 
(under  God)  of  bringing  to  pass  this  happy  change  in  the 
heart  and  family  of  the  poor  man.  We  know  that  it  is 
the  Lord  by  whom  these  mighty  events  are  brought  to  pass, 
but  the  Almighty  is  generally  pleased  to  work  by  means, 
and  blessed  are  those  whom  he  chooses  to  employ  as 
instruments  of  his  works  of  mercy. 

It  was  more  than  three  years  from  the  time  when  my 
story  first  began,  that  the  same  two  young  ladies,  of  whom 
I  first  spoke,  were  walking  one  fine  summer's  evening  on 
the  borders  of  the  common  on  which  Frank  Downes's  house 
was  situated.  Since  that  period  in  which  they  were  sit- 
ting in  the  arbour,  they  had  had  many  troubles,  and  were 
at  the  present  time  in  deep  mourning  for  their  father. 
They  were,  therefore,  not  now,  as  formerly,  disposed  to 
giggle  and  laugh  at  every  thing  they  heard  and  saw,  but 
were  prepared,  through  the  divine  blessing  on  their  afflic- 
tions, to  receive  better  impressions.  So  they  walked  on 
till  they  came  to  Francis  Downes's  cottage  ;  I  have  de- 
scribed the  appearance  of  this  place  before  its  owner  be- 
came pious,  and  I  will  now  endeavour  to  picture  it  to  my 
reader  again  after  that  happy  event  had  taken  place. 
And  first,  the  thatch  which  had  been  faulty  in  many  places, 
was  neatly  repaired,  and  the  rags  and  paper  taketf-out  of 
the  window,  and  in  their  places  were  whole  and  clean 
panes  of  glass.  The  garden,  too,  which  had  looked  like  a 
wilderness,  was  now  neatly  laid  out,  and  abounded  with  all 
manner  of  common  fruits  and  vegetables;  the  little  wicket, 
which  had  formerly  scarce  held  together,  though  fastened 
by  wisps  of  straw,  was  repaired  and  standing  upright  ; 
and  the  path  which  led  from  thence  to  the  house  door, 
neatly  laid  with  pebbles. 

When  the  two  ladies  came  up  to  the  wicket  and  looked 
over  it  into  the  garden,  they  expressed  some  surprise  at  the 
neat  and  thriving  appearance  of  all  about  the  house,  and 
one  said  to  the  other,  "  Is  not  this  the  place  whose  wretch- 
ed appearance  we  always  remarked  whenever  we  came 


12 

this  way?"  "Let  us  go  in,"  replied  the  other,  "and  iru 
quire  into  this  extraordinary  amendment;  perhaps  the 
house  has  changed  its  inhabitants."  Accordingly  the  two 
young  ladies  went  up  to  the  house,  and  knocking  at  the 
door  it  was  presently  opened  by  a  decent  looking  woman, 
with  one  child  in  her  arms  and  another  following  her.  The 
ladies  looked  at  the  cottager,  and  she  at  them  for  a  few 
moments  before  they  recollected  each  other.  At  length 
one  of  the  sisters  said,  ';  Surely  you  cannot  be  the  person 
who  some  time  ago  came  begging  to  our  house,  with  a 
child  in  your  arms,  a  person  to  whom  I  gave  a  book." 
"  Indeed,  indeed,  ladies  I  am,"  said  the  poor  woman, 
smiling,  "  and  I  have  reason  to  remember  that  day  to  the 
longest  hour  I  have  to  live."  The  poor  woman  then 
invited  'the  young  ladies  to  come  into  her  neat  kitchen, 
where,  setting  them  each  a  chair,  she  told  them  what  a 
wonderful  work  the  book  which  they  had  sent  her  husband 
had,  through  the  divine  blessing,  wrought  in  him,  and  how 
his  heart  had  been  changed,  and  his  conduct  to  her  so 
much  amended,  that  from  being  the  most  miserable  of 
women  she  was  now  become  one  of  the  happiest ;  "  for 
ladies,"  said  she,  "  when  I  was  so  ill  used  by  my  husband, 
and  saw  my  poor  child  pining  for  want,  I  had  no  heart  to 
set  my  house  to  rights,  or  mend  and  wash  my  clothes ; 
and  as  to  religion,  I  could  not  read,  and  knew  nothing 
about  it,  nor  was  likely  to  know,  for  I  never  set  my  foot  in 
a  place  of  worship;  and  such  was  my  ignorance,  that  when 
I  laid  my  eldest  boy  in  his  grave,  I  was  quite  without  com- 
fort respecting  him,  and  was  ready  almost  to  lay  myself  on 
the  cold  earth  by  his  side ;  but,  now  that  it  has  pleased 
the  Lord  to  change  the  heart  of  my  husband,  and  to  put 
it  into  his  mind  to  teach  me  my  duty  to  God,  I  am  become 
quite  another  creature,  and  go  about  my  work  as  it  were 
with  a  new  heart.  I  have  ever  seen  reason  to  rejoice  in 
that  which  at  one  time  brought  me  almost  to  despair,  I 
mean  the  death  of  my  little  darling,  inasmuch  as  I  am  now 
convinced  that  all  is  ordered  and  directed  by  our  heavenly 
Father  for  the  good  of  his  people."  Here  the  poor  woman 
burst  into  tears,  but  they  were  tears  of  joy ;  and,  as  she 
wiped  them  away  with  her  apron,  she  gave  such  a  look  to  the 
ladies  as  spoke  her  feeling  of  the  obligations  she  owed  them. 
I  cannot  describe  what  these  ladies  felt  on  this  occa- 
sion, but  they  looked  at  each  other,  aivd  one  said  to  the 

72 


13 

other,  "  I  now  remember  the  words  of  that  good  old  man 
who  sold  the  tract  to  us— 'Cast  thy  bread  upon  the  wa- 
ters, and  after  many  days  thou  shalt  find  it ;'  but  we  can 
take  no  credit  to  ourselves  on  this  occasion,  we  must  give 
all  the  glory  to  God." 

Now  I  do  not  pretend  to  say,  that  every  one  who  gives 
away  a  Bible  or  tract,  or  other  good  book,  will  always  be 
made  so  sensible  of  the  good  he  has  been  allowed  to  bring 
to  pass  as  those  ladies  were,  and  perhaps  it  would  not  be 
well  for  him  if  it  were ;  nevertheless,  of  this  we  are  as- 
sured, that  if  we  labour  in  disseminating  the  word  of  God 
and  the  principles  of  our  religion,  our  work  will  not  be 
without  effect,  for  it  is  written  in  the  prophet  Isaiah,  chap. 
lv,  10,  11,  "  For  as  the  rain  cometh  down,  and  the  snow 
from  heaven,  and  returneth  not  thither,  but  watereth  the 
earth,  and  maketh  it  bring  forth  and  bud,  that  it  may  give 
seed  id  the  sower,  and  bread  to  the  eater ;  so  shall  my 
word  be  that  goeth  forth  out  of  my  mouth :  it  shall  not 
return  unto  me  void,  but  it  shall  accomplish  that  which  1 
please,  and  it  shall  prosper  in  the  thing  whereto  I  sent  it." 


ANECDOTES  ON  TRACTS. 

The  following  accounts  are  from  various  respectable 
sources. 

"  A  female  servant  having  heard  one  of  the  children  read 
the  tract,  entitled,  'The  Dairyman's  Daughter,'  became 
exceedingly  interested  in  the  narrative ;  and  from  that 
time  was  deeply  impressed  with  a  sense  of  her  sinful  con- 
dition in  the  sight  of  God.  She  for  some  time  continued 
in  a  state  of  great  distress ;  and  was  continually  haunted  by 
dreadful  forebodings  and  fears.  Her  master  and  mistress 
felt  deeply  interested  in  her  welfare,  and  took  pains,  by 
reading  the  Holy  Scriptures,  and  such  books  as  they 
thought  suitable,  to  afford  her  instruction  and  consolation, 
Her  mind,  under  the  blessing  of  God,  was  gradually  re- 
lieved ;  and  suffice  it  to  say,  that  although  before,  like  the 
*  Dairyman's  Daughter,'  she  was  '  all  for  the  world,  for 
pleasure,  and  for  dress,'  she  now  loves  her  Bible,  seeks 
solitude,  and  enjoys  prayer.  It  may  be  proper  to  say  that 
she  expresses  great  esteem  for  '  The  Dairyman's  Daugh* 
:•>  2 


14 

rer;'  and  next  to  her  Bible,  loves  that  Tract  above  all 
books,  as  that  which  she  accounts  the  means  of  her  cbn- 
version  to  God." 

"  A  lady  of  L read  the  tracts  entitled,  '  The 

African  Servant,'  and  '  The  Dairyman's  Daughter ;'  she 
began  to  discover  that  all  was  not  right,  which  led  her  to 
examine  her  state  before  God,  and  attend  more  seriously 
both  to  the  public  and  private  duties  of  religion,  earnestly 
desiring  and  praying  for  the  grace  of  God  which  bringeth 
salvation.  Not  feeling  at  liberty  to  open  her  mind  to  those 
about  her,  who.  alas!  were  strangers  to  spiritual  and  divine 

things,  she  determined  to  take  a  journey  to  H ,  for  the 

sole  purpose  (as  she  expressed  herself  to  her  brother)  of 
obtaining  farther  light  and  understanding  in  the  things  of 
God.  During  her  stay  in  H ,  she  uniformly  manifest- 
ed the  disposition  of  those  who  '  hunger  and  thirst  after 
righteousness.'  Inquiring  the  way  to  Zion,  with  her  face 
thitherward,  she  was  directed  to  '  th^Lamb  of  God,  which) 
taketh  away  the  sin  of  the  world;'  and  seemed  to  discover' 
an  increased  knowledge  in  divine  things.  Returning  home 
she  united  herself  with  the  Lord's  people,  and  has  since; 
maintained  the  character  of  an  humble  and  consistent 
Christian."  j 

11  The  tract  entitled, '  The  Dairyman's  Daughter,'  \ist>- 
pened  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  a  woman  of  notoriously 
wicked  character ;  the  title  attracted  her  notice,  and  'in- 
vited her  perusal.  She  was  frequently  tempted  to  cast  it 
from  her,  but 

'  God  moves  in  a  mysterious  way 
;  His  wonders  to  perform.' 

She  had  read  only  three  pages  when  the  scales  dropped 
from  her -eyes,  and  the  veil  was  rent  from  her  heart;  she 
was  constrained  to  cry  aloud  for  the  disquietude  of  her  soul ; 
she  went  on  her  way  mourning  for  several  weeks;  but. 
that  God,  who  has  promised  to  heal  the  broken  hearted, 
burst  her  bonds  asunder,  and  set  her  soul  at  liberty.  She 
is  now  an  humble  follower  of  Jesus,  and  an  ornament  to 
the  Christian  religion ;  she  also  bids  fair  for  usefulness  in 
the  church  of  Christ.  Thus,  sir,  we  have  seen  one  sinner, 
a  second  Magdalene,  saved  by  grace ;  let  all  the  glory  be 
ascribed  to  the  Lord." 

A  minister  writes :  "  Tracts  are  very  useful  here  :  '  The 

72 


15 

Dairyman's  Daughter'  has  oeen  blessed  in  four  instances. 
Since  I  have  been  on  this  island  many  have  believed, 
through  grace,  to  the  salvation  of  their  souls." 

"  '  The  Dairyman's  Daughter'  was  read  in  B ,  at 

a  religious  conference.  A  revival  of  religion  immediately 
commenced  ;  and  whe.a  several  were,  a  few  months  after, 
admitted  to  the  church,  eight  traced  their  first  serious 
impressions  to  the  reading  of  that  tract." 

"  I  dropped  two  small  tracts  in  the  road :  a  wicked 
ship  carpenter  picked  them  up,  and  uttered  a  volley  ol' 
horrible  imprecations,  with  some  opprobrious  language 
against  the  description  of  persons  supposed  to  have  drop- 
ped them.  He  had  proceeded  but  a  short  way,  when  he 
met  with  another.  It  had  fallen  in  the  middle  of  the  road 
into  the  mud.  He  uttered  another  dreadful  oath,  and  ex- 
claimed, he  '  would  not  take  up  that."1  He  went  past  it  a 
short  distance,  but  suddenly  turned  round,  leaped  over  a 
ditch  between  him  and  the  carriage  road,  and  having 
picked  up  the  tract,  began  to  read  it.  It  was  '  The 
Swearer's  Prayer.'  After  reading  a  few  lines,  he  came 
to  these  words,  '  Tremble,  swearer,  while  I  tell  thee,'  &c. 
Immediately  the  stout  hearted  sinner  began  literally  to 
tremble.  He  felt  himself  '  slain  by  the  commandment ;' 
guilty,  and  self  condemned.  He  went  home  in  great  dis- 
tress of  mind,  and  so  continued  about  three  months,  when 
he  found  peace  with  God  through  justifying  faith  in  Christ, 
and  has  since  walked  agreeably  to  the  gospel." 

"  An  officer  in  the  Royal  navy  being  on  a  visit  in  Bris- 
tol, his  friend  presented  him  with  a  tract.  ,*  Vs'soon  as  he 
ascertain  -d  what  it  was,  he  threw  it  from  him  with  dis- 
dain, thinking  himself  insulted  by  being  placed  on  a  level 
with  the  poor,  for  whose  use  alone  he  considered  tracts 
were  intended.  The  lady  was  not  thereby  intimidated, 
but  observing  that  he  was  fond  of  smoking  a  pipe  in  the 
summer  house,  she  placed  '  The  Swearer's  Prayer'  on  the 
floor,  as  if  by  accident.  Observing  it  lying  there,  he  had 
the  curiosity  to  examine  what  it  was.  Finding  it  a  tract, 
he  was  on  the  point  of  throwing  it  away ;  but  being  alone, 
his  pride  did'  not  take  the  alarm,  as  in  the  former  instance. 
He  read  it  with  astonishment,  and  with  gratitude  to  God 
for  not  having  cut  him  off  in  his  sinful  courses — became 
an  anxious  inquirer,  '  What  must  I  do  to  be  saved  V  was 
directed  to  Christ  Jesus  the  Lord,  whose  blood  cleanseth 

72 


16 

from  all  sin  ;  found  rest  to  his  soul ;  und  became  as  emi- 
nent {or piety  as  he  had  been  for  fofaneness" 

"  A  young  man,  the  son  of  an  opulent  tradesman  in  the 
neighbourhood  where  I  reside,  who  seldom  opened  his 
jnouth  but  to  show  the  abomination  of  his  heart,  had  '  The 
Swearer's  Prayer'  put  into  his  hand.  It  was  blessed  to  his 
soul ;  he  left  off  this  revolting  custom,  and  sent  for  a  con- 
siderable number  of  the  same  tract  to  distribute  to  his 
former  companions.  He  lived  but  a  few  months  after- 
wards, but  left  a  dying  testimony  of  a  saving  change;  and, 
with  pale  and  quivering  lips,  almost  in  his  expiring  mo- 
ments, said,  '  J31ess  God  for  the  Tract  Society  ! — Oh, 
what  a  mercy ! — What  a, mercy ! — Blessed  man,  who  wrote 
that  little  tract!'" 

.  "  As  I  was  passing  a  little  brook  in  the  country,  I  obser- 
ved a  good  looking  farmer  beating  his  oxen  unmercifully, 
and  uttering  at  tiie  same  time  awful  imprecations.  I  alight- 
ed from  my  chaise,  placed  in  his  hand  '  The  Swearer's 
Prayer,'  and  went  on  my  journey.  Two  years  after,  a 
stranger  entered  my  counting  house,  and  said  to  me,  with 
|oy  in  his  countenance,  '  How  do  you  do  ?'  I  answered, 
'  You  are  probably  mistaken  in  the  person,  sir.'  '  Did  you 
never,'  said  he,  '  give  The  Swearer's  Prayer,  to  a  farmer 
who  was  whipping  his  oxen  and  swearing  at  them  ?'  '  I 
recollect  the  circumstance,'  said  I,  and  observed  his  tears. 
•  I  have  reason,'  said  he,  '  to  blush  at  the  acknowledg- 
ment, but  I  am  the  man.'  Then  taking  my  hand,  he  con- 
tinued, '  I  am  grateful  that  I  have  found  my  deliverer.  I 
can  never  pay  you.  Take  all  my  property,  and  every  thing 
I  have ;  and  it  shall  all  go,  before  I  will  part  with  that 
tract  which  you  so  kindly  placed  in  my  hands,  and  which 
Mini;  deep  into  my  soul.  It  was  my  salvation !  It  was 
my  all !  And  you  have  not  only  sent  salvation  to  my  soul, 
but  my  wife,  alarmed  at  my  distress,  was  soon  awakened 
to  a  sense  of  her  duty;  and  my  second  daughter  and 
eldest  son  are  now  jbyful  companions  with  us,  in  conse- 
quence of  your  giving  me  that  little  Tract,'  " 


PUBLISHED    BY    N.    BANGS    AND    J.    EMORY, 

s  Tract  Society  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  at  A 
Office,  14  Crosby-street,  New-York. 

•  Aior  Hoyt,  Printer, 


NO.  73. 

A  LETTER 

OJV  THE  SUBJECT  OF  PRAYER. 

BY  JANE  TAYLOR. 


As  my  time  is  limited,  I  cannot  devote  much  of  it  to 
subjects  of  inferior  moment ;  but  must  address  myself  at 
once  to  that  which  is  all  important,  and  in  which  all  other 
advices  are  included.  But  in  treating  this  subject,  there  is 
a  peculiar  difficulty  in  addressing  those  who,  like  you,  are 
continually  reminded  of  its  importance,  both  by  private  and 
public  instruction  ;  to  whom,  therefore,  every  argument 
is  familiar  and  must  appear  common-place.  Nor  would  I 
be  thought  to  infer,  by  any  remarks  I  may  make,  that  your 
minds  are  not  already  impressed,  more  or  less,  with  the 
importance  of  the  subject.  But  from  experience  I  know 
what  need  there  is  of  being  incessantly  quickened  and 
roused  afresh ;  and  it  sometimes  happens  that  a  word 
I'rom  a  comparative  stranger  has  more  effect  than  the  same 
thing  suggested  by  a  familiar  voice. 

But  now  I  know  not  where  to  begin,  nor  how  to  find 
language  to  reach  the  heights  and  depths  of  this  boundless 
subject.  No  language  indeed  can  do  this,  and  therefore 
we  find  in  the  Scriptures  no  attempt  is  made  beyond  the 
most  plain  and  simple  statements ;  but  which  are,  on  that 
very  account,  the  more  striking.  What,  for  instance,  could 
the  utmost  powers  of  language  add  in  force  to  that  question, 
— "  WhaWshall  it  profit  a  man  if  he  gain  the  whole  world, 
and  lose  his  own  soul  ?"  and,  my  dear  friends,  there  is 
very  great  danger,  notwithstanding  all  the  warnings  and 
admonitions  we  receive — there  is  very  great  danger  of  losing 
our  souls!  It  is  so  easy  to  pass  on  from  one  stage  of  life  to 
another — from  youth  to  age,  with  good  intentions  towards 
religion,  and  with  a  common,  respectable  attention  to  it, 
without  once  coming  to  the  point,  without  once  tasting  the 
happiness  of  a  good  hope  or  enjoying  the  supreme  satisfac- 
tion  of  making  a  full  surrender  of  our  hearts  and  lives  toGod. 
Multitudes  of  the  professors  of  religion  thus  live  and  thus 
die — making  their  comfort  and  prosperity  in  this  life  their 
chief  object  of  pursuit:  and  paying  only  so  much  attention 
to  religion  as  they  deem  absolutely  necessary  to  escape  eter- 


2 

nal  destruction.  But  this  is  not  Christianity,  as  the  Scrip- 
tures describe  it ;  and  it  is  surprising  that,  with  the  Bible 
in  his  hands,  any  person  can  make  so  great  a  mistake 
about  it.  If  God  has  not  our  hearts,  we  are  not  his. — He 
will  accept  nothing  less.  If  our  affections  are  not  in  hea- 
ven, we  shall  never  reach  it.  I  remember  that  during  my 
youth,  I  was  for  many  years  greatly  discouraged,  and  almost 
in  despair  at  last,  on  this  account — feeling  the  impossibility 
of  bringing  my  earthly  mind  to  prefer  spiritual  things — to 
love  God  better  than  the  world.  At  length  in  a  letter  from 
a  pious  friend,  I  was  reminded  that  this  great  work,  though 
impossible  to  me,  was  easy  to  Him ;  and  that  he  had  pro- 
mised to  do  it  for  all  who  ask.  From  that  time  my  difficulties 
began  to  yield.  I  saw  how  absurd  it  was  to  doubt  the 
promise  of  God ;  and  that  it  was  in  respect  to  these  very 
difficulties  that  he  says,  "  Seek  and  ye  shall  find."  So 
that  I  began  to  see  with  unspeakable  joy  that  the  hardness, 
reluctance,  and  earthliness  of  my  heart  were  no  real  ob- 
stacles, provided  that  I  did  but  apply  to  Him  for  a  cure. 
Yes,  to  cast  ourselves  entirely  on  God,  to  do  all  for  us, 
in  the  diligent  use  of  means,  is  the  sure — the  only  way  to 
Obtain  the  benefit.  But  it  is  surprising  what  reluctance 
there  is  in  the  mind  to  do  this ;  and  how  ready  we  are  to 
try  every  other  means  first ;  especially  we  are  unwilling 
to  come  by  a  simple  act  of  faith  to  the  Saviour,  and  to 
accept  from  him  a  remedy  for  all  the  evils  of  our  nature  ; 
although  there  is  no  other  way  :  how  much  labour  is  often 
lost  for  want  of  this.  Come  to  him,  my  dear  friends,  and 
"  he  will  not  cast  you  out."  He  declares  he  will  not ! 
and  come  as  you  are.  It  is  Satan's  constant  artifice  to 
persuade  us  that  we  must  wait  till  we  are  fit  to  come  ;  and 
as  this  faith  that  believes  and  lives,  however  simple,  is  the 
gift  of  God,  pray  incessantly — importunately,  till  you  re- 
ceive it. 

I  am  sure  you  are  all  convinced  already,  that  delay, 
neglect,  or  indifference  in  religion,  is  the  greatest  folly — 
the  deepest  cruelty  we  can  practise  towards  ourselves,  as 
it  respects  our  interests  in  the  future  world.  And,  indeed, 
it  is  so  as  to  this  world  too.  I  have  seen  something  more 
of  life  than  you  ;  and  I  have  lived  long  enough  to  see  that 
promise  in  numerous  instances  fulfilled,  that  "  they  who 
seek  first  the  kingdom  of  God"  have  other  things  added 
to  them,  in  a  more  special' and  desirable  way  than  those 

73 


who  make  them  the  primary  object.  I  am  firmly  convinced 
that,  taking  the  whole  of  life  together,  the  most  pious  and 
devoted  persons — such  as  made  an  early  and  complete 
surrender  of  heart  and  life  to  God — have  most  real  pros- 
perity and  success  in  this  world,  as  well  as  infinitely  more 
enjoyment  of  earthly  good.  But  really  this  is  a  point 
scarcely  worth  proving,  when  the  interests  of  a  boundless 
futurity  are  concerned ;  yet  as  it  is  one  of  the  chief  illusions 
of  "  the  father  of  lies,"  to  persuade  persons  that,  in  be- 
coming decidedly  religious,  they  must  sacrifice  the  choicest 
pleasures  of  life,  and  that  God's  ways  are  not  "  ways  of 
pleasantness,"  it  is  desirable  to  expose  the  falsehood.  All 
the  real  and  reasonable  enjoyments  of  life  are  entirely  com- 
patible, not  only  with  an  ordinary  profession  of  religion, 
but  with  the  highest  spirituality  of  mind  ;  and  are  greatly 
sweetened  by  it,  if  kept  in  their  subordinate  place :  and  as 
for  the  rest — the  gayety,  the  vanity,  the  evil  tempers,  the 
restless  desires  of  a  worldly  heart,  its  selfishness  and  fro- 
wardness,  and  all  those  indulgences  which  are  forbidden 
to  us,  they  are  as  certainly  destructive  of  our  true  interests 
and  happiness  here,  as  of  our  eternal  happiness.  Of  this 
truth,  experience  too  late  convinces  the  most  successful 
votaries  of  this  world.  But  let  us  rise  above  these  lower 
considerations; — the  question  is — are  we  desirous  to  se- 
cure the  salvation  of  our  souls  ?  And  it  is  impossible  to  fix 
a  steady  thought  on  eternity  without  being  so.  Then  let 
us  take  the  Bible  for  our  rule,  and  never  rest  till  we  have 
a  Scriptural  foundation  for  our  hope ;  nor  till  our  life,  as 
well  as  our  creed,  is  conformed  to  its  precepts  and  exam- 
ples. Allow  me  then  to  mention  those  means  which  are 
most  essential  to  the  attainment  of  this  happiness. 

To  use  means  is  our  part;  it  is  a  comparatively  easy 
part ;  and  if  we  will  not  even  do  this,  it  shows  that  we  are 
not  at  all  in  earnest  on  the  subject.  I  will  mention,  then, 
as  the  first  and  the  last — as  that  which  is  indispensable  to 
our  making  any  progress  in  religion — daily  constant  prayer. 
I  am  aware  that  where  this  habit  has  not  bee*  formed  very 
early,  there  may  be  a  sort  of  awkwardness  and  false  shame 
felt  in  the  commencement  of  it  in  a  family ;  but  it  is  a  false 
shame,  which  a  little  effort  will  conquer  ;  and  a  short  time 
entirely  remove.  I  believe  you  know  that  it  was  my  in- 
tention to  have  recommended  this  practice  to  you,  if  not 
already  adopted  j  and  nqw  I  cannot  feel  satisfied  without 


doing  so ;  for  if  ever  I  was  sure  that  I  was  giving  good  ad- 
vice, I  am  sure  of  it  in  this  instance ;  and  I  will — I  must 
most  earnestly  request  your  attention  to  it.  Perhaps  some 
of  you  might  reply  that,  seldom  feeling  inclined  to  prayer, 
it  would  generally  be  a  formal  and  heartless  service ;  but 
this  is  the  very  reason  why  it  must  never  be  neglected. 
This  reluctance  to  spiritual  engagements  is  what  the  best 
of  Christians  have  to  combat  with ;  and  it  can  only  be 
overcome  by  prayer.  If  then  you  were  to  wait  till  you  are 
of  yourselves  so  disposed,  depend  upon  it,  you  would  pass 
through  life,  and  plunge  into  eternity  in  a  prayerless  state ; 
and  although  you  may  often  engage  in  private  devotion 
with  little  feeling,  and  no  apparent  benefit,  yet  there  is  one 
certain  advantage  gained  by  it,  namely — that  the  habit  is 
strengthened ;  and  as  we  are  creatures  of  habit,  and  God 
has  made  us  so,  he  requires  us  to  avail  ourselves  of  its 
important  advantages.  If  there  is  any  one  thing  more  than 
another  among  the  many  privileges  of  a  religious  educa- 
tion for  which  I  feel  thankful,  it  is  the  having  been  trained 
from  my  early  years  to  retire  morning  and  evening  for 
this  purpose.  I  found  that  a  habit  thus  early  and  strongly 
formed,  was  not  easily  broken  through,  notwithstanding  all 
the  vanity  of  my  youthful  years :  and  however  much  I  have 
to  lament  the  abuse  of  it,  yet,  if  ever  I  have  known  any 
thing  of  religion,  it  is  to  the  closet  I  must  trace  it ;  and  I 
believe  that  universal  experience  testifies  that  our  comfort 
and  progress  in  the  divine  life  are  entirely  regulated  by  the 
punctuality  and  fervency  of  our  engagements  there.  There 
is  no  need  that  the  exercises  should  be  tedious ; — a  short 
portion  of  scripture  read  with  thought :  and  a  few  simple 
sentences  uttered  with  the  whole  heart,  are  far  preferable 
to  a  much  longer  address,  in  which  the  same  heartless 
phraseology  is  continually  repeated.  But  as  your  desires 
enlarge  so  will  your  petitions;  and  the  more  you  are  in 
earnest,  the  less  liable  you  will  be  to  fall  into  hacknied 
and  formal  expressions. 

There  is  another  practice  which,  next  to  prayer  and 
reading  the  Scriptures,  I  have  found  most  profitable ; — I 
mean  reading  once  every  day,  at  the  time  either  of  morn- 
ing or  evening  retirement,  a  few  pages  of  some  pious  book. 
— selecting  for  this  purpose,  not  the  light  productions  of 
the  day,  but  the  writings  of  the  most  eminently  useful  and 
impressive  authors.  Christian  biography  also  is  pecu- 


Harly  profitable.  This  custom  need  not  add  inorc  thaa 
ten  minutes  to  the  time  of  retirement;  and  it  is,  I  think, 
one  of  the  very  best  means  for  retaining  a  daily  impres- 
sion of  serious  things.  Habit,  also,  (try  it  for  one  month 
and  see  if  it  is  not  so,)  will  render  this  pleasant,  even 
though  it  should  seem  irksome  at  first.  If  you  will  excuse 
my  entering  into  such  minute  particulars,  (which  I  should 
not  on  any  other  subject)  I  will  add  that  the  most  advan- 
tageous time  for  the  purposes  I  have  recommended  is 
not  that  of  retiring  for  the  night ; — drowsiness  will  gene- 
rally invade  us  then ;  besides  few  young  people  can  be 
quite  alone  at  that  time ;  and  prayer  said  by  the  bed  side, 
with  a  companion  present,  is  not — I  might  almost  say 
cannot  be  personal  prayer.  It  is  a  good — I  will  call  it  a 
blessed  custom,  for  a  family  to  disperse  to  their  respective 
places  of  retirement  half  an  hour  before  supper.  Nor  is 
it,  you  must  be  aware,  from  my  own  experience  alone  that 
I  recommend  it ;  for  it  is  a  practice  which  I  know  to  be 
strictly  observed  by  all  my  pious  friends,  and  which  I  have 
remarked  in  every  serious  family  in  which  I  ever  visited. 
As  to  the  morning,  it  is  highly  desirable  that  it  should  take 
place  before  breakfast,  as  afterwards  it  interferes  with  other 
duties,  and  is  in  great  danger  of  being  quite  neglected. 
Besides,  it  is  as  essential  to  the  health  of  the  body  as  of 
the  soul,  to  rise  at  least  early  enough  for  such  a  purpose. 
I  fear  I  shall  tire  you,  and  will  mention  but  one  other  thing, 
and  that  is  the  advantage  of  a  more  particular  improve- 
ment of  sabbath  evenings,  as  the  time  most  suitable  for 
longer  retirement  and  deeper  thoughtfulness  than  the 
engagements  of  other  days  will  admit. 

My  dear  friends,  be  not  contented  with  low  aims  and 
small  attainments  in  religion : — they  are  indeed  fearful 
signs  of  insincerity,  or  at  best  proceed  from  a  merely  sla- 
vish fear  of  the  consequences  of  quite  neglecting  it.  Oh 
do  aspire  to  something  beyond  an  ordinary  reputable  pro- 
fession of  it !  Here  ambition  is  sanctified.  Determine  to 
number  yourselves  among  the  happy  few,  and  do  not  be 
discouraged  by  difficulties,  nor  think  it  too  much  for  you  to 
attain.  It  is  not  humility,  but  inactivity  and  despondency 
that  leads  us  to  think  so.  God  will  give  us  all  the  grace, 
and  strength,  and  ability,  we  really  desire  and  ask  for. 

And  let  me  affectionately  recommend  you  early  to  seek 
to  be  engaged  in  some  sphere  of  active  usefulness.  Doing 


6 

good  is  the  most  excellent  means  of  getting  good.  There 
is  no  mistake  greater  than  to  suppose  that  we  are  sent 
into  the  world  only  to  attend,  however  industriously,  to 
our  own  personal,  or  even  family  interests.  Love  to  our 
neighbour  demands  our  active  exertions  in  his  behalf; 
and  we  are  all  required  more  or  less  "  to  go  and  work  in 
the  vineyard."  We  have  all  a  talent  entrusted  to  us;  and 
what  shall  we  say  when  our  Lord  comes  if  we  have  not 
improved  it?  Did  you  never  remark  in  reading  the  16th 
chapter  of  the  epistle  to  the  Romans,  how  St.  Paul,  in  his 
salutations  particularizes  those  who  were  most  zealously 
engaged  in  good  works?  "Phebe,  a  servant  of  the  church, 
and  a  succourer  of  many  ;" — "  Priscilla  and  Aquila,  his 
helpers  in  Christ ;" — "  Mary,  who  bestowed  much  labour 
on  them ;" — "  Persis,  w-ho  laboured  much  in  the  Lord." — 
While  he  passes  over  with  a  slight  remembrance,  or  notes 
with  censure,  others,  who  "  minded  only  their  own  things, 
and  not  the  things  that  are  Jesus  Christ's." 

It  must  have  been  gratifying  to  have  been  thus  distin- 
guished by  the  apostle ;  but  oh,  how  much  more  so  to  be 
approved  by  Him,  who  for  our  good  requires  these  services 
from  us;  and  to  hear  him  say  at  last, — "Well  done,  good 
and  faithful  servant !"  We  should  suffer  no  day  to  pass 
without  thinking  of,  and  acting  for  that  day  when  we  shall 
be  "  judged  according  to  our  works,"  as  the  only  evidences 
of  our  faith;  and  very  encouraging  is  that  kind  and  consi- 
derate expression  of  our  Lord,  concerning  a  poor  woman, 
showing  that  he  is  no  hard  master,  and  not  unreasonable 
in  his  requisitions,  "  she  hath  done  what  she  could."  But 
how  few  of  us  deserve  this  praise !  I  am  persuaded  you 
would  find  useful  activity  one  of  the  best  preservatives 
against  the  innumerable  temptations  to  which,  as  youth 
advances,  you  will  be  exposed.  How  many  young  persons 
have  blessed  God  that  ever  they  were  led  to  engage  in 
Sunday  school  teaching !  It  profitably  occupies  the  time 
which,  if  wasted  in  frivolity  and  indulgence,  leads  to  the 
worst  consequences;  and  in  teaci-mg  others,  a  double 
blessing  often  descends  upon  the  teacher. 

But  in  engaging  in  active  usefulness,  especially  when 
we  are  required  to  associate  with  others,  there  are  evils  to 
be  guarded  against ;  and  we  must  be  clad  with  the  impene- 
trable armour  of  Christian  simplicity  ai^  meekness,  in 
order  to  avoid  them,  We  may  have  to  encounter  those 


who  are  officious,  unreasonable,  monopolizing,  ambitious, 
and  overbearing ;  and  if  any  similar  tempers  are  indulged 
in  ourselves,  continual  contention  must  ensue. 

The  only  way  is  to  rise  superior  to  those  petty  jealousies, 
and  inferior  motives ; — to  do  good  for  its  own  sake  alone ; 
to  persevere  in  a  quiet  forbearing,  yielding,  line  of  conduct, 
which  never  fails  to  disappoint  and  weary  out  the  most 
troublesome,  at  last.  And  even  if  any  should  say  to  us, 
however  unjustly — "  Friend,  go  down  lower,"  our  wisdom 
and  happiness  is  to  submit  with  good  grace,  and  cheerfully 
to  labour  in  an  humbler  sphere. 

The  temper  and  conduct  which  are  called  "  spirited," 
in  ascertaining  our  rights  and  maintaining  our  conse- 
quence, is  as  unwise  and  impolitic  as  it  is  unchristian  like. 
Nothing  forms  so  truly  great  and  dignified  a  character  as 
"  the  meekness  and  gentleness  of  Christ." 

But  with  regard  to  our  conduct,  whether  at  home  or 
abroad,  we  cannot  mistake  if  we  will  but  follow  the  pre- 
cepts of  Scripture  in  their  plain  and  literal  sense.  This  is 
too  much  neglected — strangely  neglected  even  by  those 
who  profess  to  make  the  Bible  their  rule.  If  we  had  no 
other  directions  whatever  for  our  conduct  than  those  con- 
tained in  that  beautiful  chapter,  the  12th  to  the  Romans, 
it  would  make  a  heaven  of  earth  were  they  but  attended  to. 
It  is  an  excellent  chapter  to  read  very  often,  and  deeply 
and  daily  to  study. — It  would  make  a  little  paradise  of  any 
society  or  family  where  its  spirit  was  imbibed ;  and  after 
all,  it  is  at  home — in  the  bosom  of  our  families,  in  our  daily 
and  hourly  tempers  and  conduct,  that  we  have  the  best 
opportunity  of  practising  holy  obedience  to  the  command- 
ments of  Christ.  Keeping  these  commandments  "  which 
are  not  grievous"— though  we  are  prone  to  think  they  arc 
till  we  try,  implies  a  continual  exercise  of  self  denial ;  and 
if  we  are  conscious  that  we  make  no  such  sacrifices — that 
we  are  not  in  the  habit  of  denying  ourselves,  it  is  plain 
that  we  are  not  following  him  at  all ;  for  those  who  do 
must  bear  some  cross.  There  is  indeed  something  in  the 
very  sound  of  the  word  self  denial,  which  alarms  our  indo- 
lence, indulgence,  pride,  and  wilfulness ;  but  it  is  a  false 
alarm;  for  these  very  qualities — indolence,  indulgence, 
pride,  and  wilfulness,  are  the  greatest  enemies  to  our  peace 
and  happiness ;  and  one  day's  experience  is  enough  to 
show  that,  in  proportion  as  they  are  resisted  and  mortified, 


s 

we  are  comfortable,  tranquil,  and  happy.  May  God.bless 
you  all,  and  lead  every  one  of  you  safely  through  this  dan- 
gerous world,  to  his  eternal  rest !  This  is  the  earnest  hope, 
and  will  be  the  frequent  prayer  of  your  sincere  and  affec- 
tionate friend. 

PRAYER  is  appointed  to  convey 

The  blessings  God  designs  to  give : 
Long  as  they  live  should  Christians  pray 

They  learn  to  pray  when  first  they  live. 
If  pain  afflict,  or  wrongs  oppress, 

If  cares  distract,  or  fears  dismay; 
If  guilt  deject ;  if  sin  distress ; 

In  every  case,  still  watch  and  pray. 
'Tis  prayer  supports  the  soul  that's  weak : 

Though  thought  be  broken,  language  lame. 
Pray,  if  thou  canst,  or  canst  not  speak  : 

But  pray  with  faith  in  Jesus'  name. 
Depend  on  Him ;  thou  canst  not  fail ; 

Make  all  thy  wants  and  wishes  known  : 
Fear  not ;  his  merits  must  prevail : 

Ask  but  in  faith,  it  shall  be  done. 

I  WOULD  believe  that  thou  art  He 
Who  came  from  heaven  to  die  for  me  : 
Saviour  of  men,  the  power  supply, 
Nor  leave  me  in  my  sins  to  die : 
A  sinner  on  thy  mercy  cast, 
I  mourn  for  my  offences  past ; 
O  for  thy  own  dear  sake  forgive, 
And  saved  by  faith  my  soul  shall  live. 
If  now  thy  precious  grace  I  feel 
Which  melts  my  stubbornness  of  will 
If  crush'd  by  unbelief  I  groan, 
And  languish  for  a  God  unknown, 
One  ray  of  light  and  comfort  dart, 
One  spark  of  faith  into  my  heart, 
And  let  me  feel  thy  sprinkled  blood, 
And  see  thee  now  my  Lord  my  God 

PUBLISHED   BT   N.    BANGS   AKD   J.    EMORY, 

For  the  Tract  Society  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  at  the  Conference 
Office,  14  Crosby-street,  New-York. 

Atvr  Beyt,  Printer.  73 


NO.  74, 
A  STRANGE  THING. 


I  FIND  by  conversation  with  my  neighbours,  and  from  the 
perusal  of  books  and  pamphlets  which  they  are  frequently 
putting  into  my  hands,  that  there  is  an  opinion  extensively 
prevalent  that  all  mankind  will  be  saved.  Those  with 
whose  views  I  am  best  acquainted,  generally  believe  that 
there  is  no  punishment  after  death.  Sin,  it  is  thought,  in- 
volves its  own  punishment.  Consequently  when  mankind 
cease  to  sin,  as  it  is  supposed  they  all  will  at  death,  there 
will  be  an  end  to  all  their  sufferings.  This  opinion  ap- 
pears to  me  strange,  not  because  it  is  entirely  new,  but 
because  it  is  inconsistent  with  so  many  other  things  which 
I  have  long  considered  as  facts,  and  which  so  far  as  1 
know  have  been  considered  as  facts  by  others. 

The  Jirst  of  these  is  the  solicitude,  which  the  apostles 
manifested  for  the  salvation  of  their  bearers.  They  con- 
versed and  preached,  and  prayed,  and  laboured,  as  though 
they  were  deeply  concerned  for  the  salvation  of  their  fel- 
low men.  Paul  in  his  epistle  to  the  Romans,  expresses 
the  anxiety  which  he  felt  for  his  brethren  the  Jews.  "  I 
say  the  truth  in  Christ,  I  lie  not,  my  conscience  also  bear- 
ing me  witness  in  the  Holy  Ghost,  that  I  have  great  heavi- 
ness and  continual  sorrow  in  my  heart.  For  I  could  wish 
myself  accursed  from  Christ,  for  my  brethren,  my  kinsmen 
according  to  the  flesh."  In  the  first  verse  of  the  next  chap- 
ter, he  gives  us  the  reason  why  he  was  so  anxious  respect- 
ing his  brethren.  "  My  heart's  desire,  and  prayer  to  God 
for  Israel -is,  that  they  might  be  saved"  That  the  salva- 
tion of  his  hearers  was  the  object  of  Paul's  exertions,  as 
well  as  prayers,  is  more  than  intimated  in  the  following 
passage.  "  I  am  made  all  things  to  all  men.  that  I  might 
by  alf  means  save  some."  Paul  was  anxious,  not  only  so 
to  conduct  himself  as  to  secure  the  salvation  of  his  fellow 
creatures,  but  that  all  to  whom  th.e  treasures  of  the  gospel 
were  committed,  should  do  the  same.  This  is  apparent 
from  the  following  address  to  Timothy,  "  Take  heed  unto 
thyself  and  unto  thy  doctrine ;  continue  in  them ;  for  in 
doing  this  thou  shall  both  save  thyself  and  them  that  heasr 
theel"  Now  upon  the  supposition,  that  Paul,  and  the  rest 
Of  the  apostles,  knew  that  all  would  be  saved,  it  appears 


to  me  strange,  that  they  should  manifest  this  solicitude 
about  it.  It  is  not  natural  for  mankind  to  be  anxious  that 
an  event  should  take  place,  when  they  know  infallibly  that 
it  cannot  be  prevented.  We  see  no  one  anxious  lest  the 
sun  should  not  continue  to  rise  and  set,  and  the  seasons 
observe  their  appointed  successions.  And  the  only  con- 
ceivable reason  is,  all  men  are  satisfied  that  the  rising  and 
setting  of  the  sun,  and  the  rotation  of  the  seasons  will 
continue  as  they  have  done.  Now  if  Paul  knew,  and  if  it 
is  a  truth  he  did  unquestionably  know  it,  that  all  men  would 
be  saved,  he  could  not  have  had  any  anxiety  respecting  the 
salvation  of  his  brethren  or  any  one  else,  any  more  than 
those  who  know  the  sun  will  rise  to  morrow,  can  be  anx- 
ious lest  they  be  left  in  total  darkness.  Paul's  anxiety  re- 
specting the  salvation  of  his  brethren  and  others,  and  the 
great  exertions  which  he  made  and  endeavoured  to  influ- 
ence others  to  make  in  order  to  save  them,  are  strange  and 
unaccountable  things,  upon  every  other  supposition,  but 
that  of  ins  considering  them  in  danger  of  perishing,  and 
his  seriously  fearing  that  many  of  them  actually  would 
perish. 

2.  If  the  doctrine  of  universal  salvation  was  taught  by 
the  aposflej||it  -appears  to  me  strange,  that  their  hearers 
were  so  mvics-alai'mecf  at  their  preaching.  That  the  preach- 
ing of  the  Apostles  did  excite  great  alarm  and  anxiety 
among  their  hearers,  is  a  fact  with  which  few  can  be  un- 
acquahtted  0»ri  the  day  of  pentecost  three  thousand  were 
pricKed  at  their  heart  upon  the  hearing  of  Peter's  sermon: 
and  under  the  influence  of  their  deep  anxiety,  they  ex- 
cla.med,  "  Men  and  brethren,  what  shall  we  do  ?"  It  seems 
to  have^artfS  conviction  of  his  guilty,  perishing  condition, 
produced  by  the  doctrine  of  Paul,  that  influenced  the  jailer 
to  inquire,  what  he  should  do  to  be  saved.  When  Paul 
stood  before  Felix  the  Roman  governor,  and  "  reasoned  of 
righteousness,  temperance,  and  judgment  to  come,  Felix 
trembled."  Now  if  the  apostles  believed  the  doctrine  of 
universal  salvation,  they  were  doubtless  understood  to 
preach  it.  But  it  appears  to  me  strange,  that  their  hear- 
ers, while  hearing  that  all  will  be  saved,  or  what  evidently 
implied  this,  should  tremble,  give  signs  of  the  deepest  dis- 
tress, and  with  tears  entreat  the  apostles  to  inform  them 
what  they  must  do  to  be  saved.  Their  deep  solicitude  is 
perfectly  natural,  upon  the  supposition  that  they  were 


taught  the  reality  of  a  future  judgment,  and  the  danger  in 
which  they  stood  of  perishing  for  ever,  as  a  just  punishment 
for  their  sins.  We  can  easily  see  that  a  firm  belief  in  this 
truth,  and  a  lively  apprehension  of  it,  would  produce  the 
very  trembling  and  alarm,  and  inquiry,  which  were  pro- 
duced. But  as  the  opinion  under  consideration  is  incon- 
sistent with  their  having  been  taught  any  such  thing,  it 
renders  the  fact  of  their  deep  anxiety  wholly  unaccounta- 
ble. To  get  rid  of  the  difficulty,  we  w.ill  for  the  present 
suppose,  that  they  were  needlessly  alarmed,  as  many  are 
occasionally  thought  to  be  at  the  present  day. 

3.  Admitting  the  fact  that  Christ  and  the  apostles  taught 
the  doctrine  of  universal  salvation,  it  appears  to  me  inex- 
pressibly strange,  that  wicked  men  manifested  so  much 
opposition  to  their  preaohing.      Christ  and  the  apostles 
doubtless  preached  the  truth  plainly  and'  faithfully.     Of 
course,  if  the  doctrine  of  universal  salvation  is  true,  they 
preached  this  doctrine, — they  were  understood  to  preach 
it,  and  they  never  preached  any  thing  inconsistent  with  it. 
Now  what  there  is  in  this  doctrine  so  repugnant  to  the 
feelings  of  wicked  men  as  to  excite  such  opposition  as 
Christ  and  the  apostles  encountered  from  them,  I  never 
could  see.    That  the  feelings  of  all  men  in  an  twisanctified 
state  are  opposed  to  the  doctrine  of  future  and  eternal 
punishment,  is  a  truth  which  every  one  knows  from  his 
own  experience,  as  well  as  from  observation.     On  the  sup- 
position that  Christ  and  his  apostles  preached  this  doctrine, 
it  would  be  perfectly  easy  to  account  for  all  the  opposition 
which  was  made  against  them.     But  why  all  the  world,  as 
it  were,  should  rise  up  against  these  holy  men,  and  perse- 
cute them  even  unto  death,  only  for  declaring  the  glad 
tidings  of  the  salvation  of  all  men,  is  one  of  those  unac- 
countable things  which  I  acknowledge  myself  unable  to 
explain. 

4.  Upon  the  supposition  fhat  all  will  be  saved,  there  is 
something  peculiarly  strange  in  the  language,  in  which 
Christ  and  the  apostles  speak  of  the  future  state  of  the 
righteous  and  the  wicked.  With  the  idea  in  his  mind,  that 
it  was  the  design  of  Christ  and  the  apostles  to  teach  the 
certain  salvation  of  all  men,  let  the  reader  consider  for  a 
moment  a  few  of  their  expressions,  and  see  if  there  is  not 
something  peculiarly  strange  in  them.     "  Fear  not  rhem 
which  kill  the  body,  but  are  not  able  to  kill  the  soul;  but 


rather  fear  him  which  is  able  to  destroy  both  soul  and  body 
in  hell."  ,In  Luke,  "  Fear  him  which  after  he  hath  killed, 
hath  power  to  cast  into  hell ;  yea,  I  say  unto  you,  fear  him." 
It  is  not  a  little  surprising  that  Christ,  who  upon  the  prin- 
ciple here  assumed,  wished  to  guard  his  hearers  against 
any  apprehensions  of  a  punishment  beyond  this  life,  should 
here  speak  of  God's  being  aMe  to  destroy  the  soul,  as  well 
as  the  body ;  to  destroy  the  soul  in  hell,  after  he  had  killed 
the  body. 

Besides,  I  cannot  see  the  collusiveness  of  our  Saviour's 
reasoning  in  this  place.  What  if  God  is  able  to  destroy 
the  soul,  as  well  as  the  body  ?  This  is  no  good  reason  why 
we  should  fear  him,  rather  than  any  other  being,  if  it  is 
known  that  he  will  not  do  it.  What  if  God  is  able  to  de- 
stroy the  soul  in  hell?  If  it  is  known  that  there  is  no  such 
place  of  future  punishment  as  hell,  and  if  God  is  such  a 
being  tha-  he  will  not  destroy  the  soul  in  hell  I  do  not  see 
why  the  circumstance  that  he  is  able  to  do  it,  need  to 
frightrn  us.  I  doubt  not  Christ  did  reason  conclusively. 
But  in  this  case  I  cannot  see  the  force  of  his  argument, 
unless  he  meant  to  teach  the  dreadful  doctrine,  that  the 
souls  of  the  wicked  will  go  to  hell  as  a  place  of  punish- 
ment after  the  decease  of  their  bodies. 

"  Enter  ye  in  at  the  strait  gate;  for  wide  is  the  gate 
and  broad  is  the  way  that  leadeth  to  destruction,  and  many 
there  be  which  go  in  thereat:  because  strait  is  the  gate, 
and  narrow  is  the  way,  which  leadeth  unto  life,  and  few 
there  be  that  find  it."  Now  as  Christ  believed  in  the 
doctrine  of  universal  salvation,  I  should  suppose,  that  in- 
stead of  exhorting  his  hearers  to  enter  in  at  the  strait  gate, 
he  would  have  told  them  that  they  icould  enter  in  at  the 
strait  gate  ;  that  instead  of  using  the  alarming  expression, 
"  Wide  is  the  gate  and  broad  is  the  way  that  leadeth  to 
destruction ;  and  many  there  be  which  go  in  thereat," 
lie  would  have  told  them  honestly  that  there  is  no  way  to 
destruction,  and  of  course  that  none  are  going  there  ;  that. 
instead  of  saying,  in  the  style  of  the  illiberal  partialist  of 
the  present  day,  "  strait  is  the  gate  and  narrow  is  the  way 
which  leadeth  unto  life,  and  few  there  be  that  find  it,"  he 
would  have  adopted  the  more  catholic  language  of  another 
class,  and  without  hesitation  declared,  that  the  gate  of 
heaven  is  wide,  that  the  way  thither  is  broad,  and  that  aU 
will  find  it. 

74 


"  Marvel  not  at  this,  the  hour  cometh  in  which  all  that 
are  in  their  graves  shall  hear  his  voice  and  come  forth 
they  that  have  done  good  to  the  resurrection  of  life,  and 
they  that  have  done  evil  to  the  resurrection  of  damnation." 
Should  I  hear  a  preacher  at  the  present  day  use  such  an 
expression  as  this,  without  any  explanation,  I  should  na- 
turally conclude  that  he  believed,  not  only  in  the  future 
resurrection  of  the  bodies  of  all  the  dead,  but  of  the  sub- 
sequent happiness  of  the  righteous  and  misery  of  the 
wicked.  This,  I  cannot  doubt,  is  the  conclusion  of  ninety 
nine  in  a  hundred,  the  first  time  they  hear  the  expression. 
It  is  truly  astonishing  then,  that  Christ  who  is  supposed 
to  have  known  that  these  doctrines  are  totally  false,  and 
extremely  pernicious,  should  have  used  such  an  expres- 
sion. Not  one  in  fifty  of  those  who  now  preach  universal 
salvation,  would,  it  is  presumed,  haye  the  imprudence  to 
drop  this  expression^  or  any  one  similar  to  it,  without  at 
the  same  time  so  explaining  it,  as  to  prepare  his  audience 
to  receive  a  meaning  essentially  different  from  the  most 
obvious  sense  of  the  words. 

In  his  explanation  of  the  parable  of  the  tares  and  the 
wheat,  Christ  says,  "  the  field  is  the  world ;  the  good  seed 
are  the  children  of  the  kingdom ;  but  the  tares  are  the 
children  of  the  wicked  one ;  the  enemy  that  sowed  them 
is  the  devil ;  the  harvest  is  the  end  of  the  world  ;  and  the 
reapers  are  the  angels.  As  therefore  the  tares  are  ga- 
thered and  burned  in  the  fire ;  so  shall  it  be  at  the  end  of 
the  world.  The  Son  of  man  shall  send  forth  his  angels, 
and  they  shall  gather  out  of  his  kingdom  all  things  that 
offend,  and  them  which  do  iniquity.  And  shall  cast  them 
into  a  furnace  of  fire  ;  there  shall  be  wailing  and  gnash- 
ing of  teeth.  Then  shall  the  righteous  shine  forth  as  the 
sun  in  the  kingdom  of  their  Father."  When  I  consider 
that  this  is  an  explanation  of  a  parable  which  Christ  had 
previously  spoken ;  an  attempt  to  make  fliore  plain  to 
them,  what  he  had  left  in  comparative  qjbs.curity,  I  have 
no  words  to  express  the  astonishment  which  I  feel  at  his 
language.  Instead  of  finding  the  doctrine  of  universal 
salvation  plainly  and  unequivocally  taught,  as  we  might 
expect,  if  Christ  believed  it  himself;  from  such  a  parable 
as  this,  we  find  here  a  distinction  made  between  the  chil- 
dren of  the  kingdom  and  the  children  of  the  wicked  one, 
an  assertion  that  those  who  do  iniquity,  shall  be  gathered 

»  74 


out  of  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  cast  into  a  lake  of  fire, 
and  an  intimation  that  the  righteous  only  shall  shine  forth 
in  the  kingdom  of  their  Father.  How  much  more  like  a 
Universalist  would  Christ  have  spoken,  if  he  meant  to 
intimate  that  all  would  be  saved ;  how  much  more  gene- 
rally, as  well  as  easily  would  he  have  been  understood,  if  he 
had  been  silent  respecting  a  distinction  between  the  chil- 
dren of  the  kingdom  and  the  children  of  the  wicked  one, 
and  called  them  all  the  children  of  God.  And,  instead  of 
dooming  a  part  to  a  lake  of  fire,  as  is  frequently  done  in 
the  pulpits  of  those  now  termed  bigoted  ecclesiastics,  he 
had  said,  not  that  the  righteous  shall  shine  forth  as  the  sun 
in  the  kingdom  of  their  Father,  but  that  all  the  human 
race  "  shall  shine  forth  as  the  sun  in  the  kingdom  of  their 
Father."  Christmas  honest  and  sincere,  plain  and  faithful 
in  his  instructions.  But  hmo  he  could  be  so^nd  use  such 
language  as  is  found  in  the  explanation  of  this  parable,  if 
he  believed  that  all  would  be  saved,  is  certainly  among  the 
mysteries  which  are  not  yet  understood. 

"  When  the  Son  of  man  shall  come  in  his  glory,  and  all 
the  holy  angelawith  him,  then  shall  he  sit  upon  the  throne 
of  his  glory;  and  before  him  shall  be  gathered  all  nations; 
and  he  shall  separate  them  one  from  another  as  a  shep- 
herd divideth  his  sheep  from  the  goats ;  and  he  shall  set 
the  sheep  on  his  right  hand  and  the  goats  on  the  left.  Then 
shall  the  King  say  unto  them  on  his  right  hand,  Come  ye 
blessed  of  my  Father,  inherit  the  kingdom  prepared  for  you 
from  the  foundation  of  the  world.  Then  shall  he  say  also 
unto  them  on  the  left  hand,  Depart,  ye  .cursed,  into  ever- 
lasting fire,  prepared  for  the  devil  and  his  angels.  And 
these  shall  go  away  into  everlasting  punishment,  but  the 
righteous  into  life  eternal."  Now  if  the  opinion  that  there 
is  to  be  a  day  of  judgment  at  which  all  the  human  race  will 
be  summoned  before  Christ,  the  righteous  separated  from 
the  wicked,  the  one  received  to  endless  happiness,  and  the 
other  consigned  to  ceaseless  perdition,  be  groundless,  it  is 
to  me  peculiarly  strange,t\izt  Christ,  who  must  have  known 
the  falsehood  of\his  doctrine, 'should  so  plainly  express  it, 
as  he  does  when  \\e  speaks  of  all  nations  being  gathered 
before  him,  of  his  separating  the  righteous  from  the  wick- 
ed as  a  shepherd  divideth  his  sheep  from  the  goats,  of  his 
inviting  the  one  to  the  enjoyment  of  that  kingdom  pre- 
pared for  them  by  his  Father,  and  of  his  bidding  the  other1 


depart  accursed  into  everlasting  fire,  prepared  for  the 
devil  and  his  angels.  If  he  did  not  believe  this  doctrine, 
it  is  certainly  natural  to  suppose  that  he  would  have  been 
more  cautious,  than  to  use  language  which  sd  unequivo- 
cally expresses  it.  That  thousands  of  honest  inquirers 
after  truth  have  understood  him  to  assert  this  doctrine  in 
the  passage  before  us,  is  what  few,  if  any,  will  pretend  to 
deny ;  and  that  he  knew  they  would  thus  understand  him 
is  as  generally  acknowledged.  It  appears  to  me  strange, 
therefore,  that  he  had  not  used  expressions  that  would 
have  clearly  conveyed  his  meaning,  and  prevented  the 
numerous  distressing  fears,  as  well  as  hurtful  errors  which 
his  language  has  occasioned.  Let  my  readers  consider, 
that  Christ  knew  the  truth  upon  this  subject,  that  he  was* 
able  to  express  it  with  the  greatest  plainness,  that  he  had 
no  intention  of  frightening  them  by  false  exaggerated  re- 
presentations, but  that  his  real  object  was  to  communicate 
the  most  important  practical  information ;  and  then  let 
them  tell  me,  how  he  came  to  use  language  which  so  much 
resembles  that  of  those  who  preach  the  gloomy  doctrine 
of  future  and  everlasting  punishment. 

The  conduct  of  the  apostles,  upon  this  subject,  appears 
to  me  equally  strange  with  that  of  Christ.  Considering- 
them  as  Universalists,  designing  to  teach  that  there  will  be 
no  punishment  after  this  life,  I  am  wholly  unable  to  recon- 
cile their  expressions  with  truth  and  sincerity.  Paul's 
language  to  the  Corinthians,  upon  the  future  condition  of 
mankind,  exactly  resembles  the  language  of  those  who 
preach  in  opposition  to  the  Universalists,  the  doctrine  of 
future  punishment.  "  We  must  all  appear  before  the 
judgment  seat  of  Christ;  that  every  man  may  receive  the 
things  done  in  his  body,  according  to  that  he  hath  done, 
whether  it  be  good  or  bad."  If  Paul  believed  that  there 
is  no  judgment  after  death,  and  no  punishment  only  what 
is  suffered  in  this  life,  it  is  very  difficult,  to  say  the  least, 
to  tell  what  he  meant  by  our  receiving  at  the  judgment  the 
thiugs  done  in  our  bodies.  Nor  does  there  appear  to  be 
any  propriety  in  his  intimating,  as  he  appears  to  do  in  the 
following  passage,that  mankind  go  to  judgment  after  death. 
"  It  is  appointed  unto  men  once  to  die,  and  after  this  the 
judgment."  A  Universalist  might,  perhaps,  in  conse- 
quence of  finding  such  expressions  in  the  Scriptures,  make 
Use  of  them  in  his  public  discourses.  But  if  he  were  a 


8 

man  of  prudence,  he  would  carefully  guard  the  minds  of 
his  hearers  against  a  misunderstanding  of  them  by  his  own 
exclanations.  When,  therefore,  I  find  Paul  freely  using 
such  expressions,  and  accompanying  them  with  no  expla- 
nations that  seem  in  the  least  to  detract  from  their  most 
obvious  sense,  I  am  compelled  to  conclude  that  he  was  a 
very  imprudent  preacher,  or,  that  he  was  no  Universalist. 
I  have  often  heard  serious  and  worthy  ministers  of  the 
gospel,  unhappily  tinctured,  however,  with  the  belief  oi' 
future  and  eternal  punishment,  censured  for  preaching  too 
much  terror.'  And  there  certainly  has  been*,  at  times, 
some  things  in  their  awful  denunciation  against  sinners, 
which  were  enough  to  make  the  stoutest  heart  tremble. 
But  what  has  surprised  me  more  than  any  thing  else  rela- 
tive to  this  subject,  is  the  fact  that  Paul,  and  others  of  the 
apostles,  use  expressions  upon  this  subject  as  strong,  and 
as  full  of  terror,  as  any  thing  which  ever  dropped  from 
their  lips.  I  never  heard  the  most  offensive  of  these 
preachers  say  any  thing  which  appeared  to  me  more 
unequivocally  to  assert  the  doctrine  of  future  and  eternal 
punishment,  more  indicative  of  God's  displeasure  with  the 
wicked,  or  more  calculated  to  frighten  them?  than  the 
following  language  of  Paul,  "  The  Lord  Jesus  shall  be 
revealed  from  heaven,  with  his  mighty  angels  in  flaming 
fire,  taking  vengeance  on  them  that  know  not  God,  and 
that,obey  not  the  gospel  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  who 
shall  be  punished  with  everlasting  destruction  from  the 
presence  of  the  Lord,  and  from  the  glory' of  his*  power." 
One  thing  must  be  obvious  to  all,  should  a  Universalist 
preacher  now  make  a  free  use  of  such  expressions  of  the 
apostles  as  that  above  quoted,  without  accompanying  them 
with  his  own  interpretations,  his  hearers  would  conclude 
that  he  had  changed  his  sentiments. — These  remarks  may 
lead  my  readers  to  conclude  that  Paul  was  more  careless, 
or  imprudent  in  his  language  than  the  rest  of  the  apostles. 
But  I  am  far  from  thinking  that  this  is  a  fact.  Although 
I  dislike  to  charge  him  or  any  of  his  brethren  with  impru- 
dence or  insincerity;  yet  upon  the  supposition  that  they 
believed  in  the  salvation  of  all  men,  I  say  again,  I  cannot 
reconcile  flieir  language  with  their  sentiments,  or  with  any 
serious  intention  of  communicating  them.  We  will  now 
suppose  thai  John  was  a  Universalist,  and  at  the  same 
time,  consider  for  a  moment,  the  language  which  he  uses 


9 

in  relating  a  vision  which  he  had  of  future  things.  "  I  saw 
a  great  white  throne  and  him  that  sat  on  it,  from  whose 
face  the  earth  and  the  heavens  fled  away.  And  I  saw  the, 
dead  small  and  great  stand  before  God ;  and  the  books 
were  opened ;  and  another  book  was  opened  which  was 
the  book  of  life ;  and  the  dead  were  judged  out  of  those 
things  which  were  written  in  the  books  according  to  their 
works.  And  the  sea  gave  up  the  dead  which  were  in  it, 
and  death  and  hell  delivered  up  the  dead  which  were  hi 
them,  and  they  were  judged  every  man  According  to  their 
works.  And  death  and  hell  were  cast  into  the  lake  of  fire. 
This  is  the  second  death.  And  whosoever  was  not  found 
written  in  the  book  of  life  was  cast  into  the  lake  of  fire." 


should  hnve  had  just  such  a  vision  as  this.  And  admit- 
ting, as  we  must,  that  he  did  have  it,  it  is  unaccountable 
that  he  should  not  have  had  the  prudence  to  express  him- 
self a  little  differently,  or  to  add  some  explanation  to  his 
words,  which  would  have  satisfied  every  henest  reader, 
that  he  did  not  mean  all  which  he  seems  to  say.  If  he  had 
told  us,  expressly,  that  he  did  not  mean  by  what  he  had 
said  respecting  the  dead  small  and  great  standing  before 
God,  to  intimate  that  any  of  the  human  race  would  pver  be 
raised  from  the  dead ;  that  he  did  not  design,  by  the  books' 
being  opened  and  the  dead's  being  judi ed  out  of  the  things 
written  in  the  books,  to  be  understood  that  any  would  here- 
after be  called  to  an  account  for  what  they  had  done  in  this 
life;  and  that  by  his  declaration,  "Whosoever  was  not 
found  written  in  tha  book  of  life  was  cast  into  the  lake  of 
lire,"  he  had  not  the  most  distant  thought  of  alarming  any 
one  with  the  fear  of  future  punishment,,  although  it  would 
then  have  been  impossible,  upon  any  fair  principles  of  in- 
terpretation, to  ascertain  what  he  did  mean  by  his  expres- 
sions, yet  he  might  have  appeared  honest  and  sincere,  and 
prudent.  But  to  leave  his  expressions  in  the  unguarded 
form  in  which  they  now  stand,  looks  like  a  species  of  im- 
.prudence  directly  calculated  to  lead  honest,  sincere,  and 
even  discerning  minds  into  the  gloomy  belief  of  a  day  of 
judgment  and  perdition  of  ungodly  men ;  a  species  of  im- 
prudence which  we  are  sure  would  destroy  the  popularity, 
and  essentially  injure  the  cause  of  any  Universalist  at  the 


10 

present  day,  and  of  which,  none  of  this  class,  within  my 
knowledge,  is  ever  guilty. 

5.  If  there  is  no  punishment  after  death,  there  appears 
to  me  to  be  something  strange  in  God's  treatment  of  his 
creatures  in  this  world.  Generally  speaking,  the  right- 
eous and  the  wicked  are  here  treated  essentially  alike. — 
Although  there  are  instances,  in  which  God  does,  by  his 
providence,  inflict  signal  punishments  upon  the  wicked, 
and  confer  signal  rewards  upon  the  righteous  in  this  life  ; 
yet  these  instances  being  comparatively  rare,  must  be  con- 
sidered among  the  extraordinary  events  of  his  providence. 
God's  general  rule  of  dealing  with  his  creatures  in  this  life, 
a  rule  from  which  he  never  departs,  except  in  extraordinary 
cases,  and  for  special  purposes,  is  expressed  in  the  follow- 
ing words :  "  He  maketh  his  sun  to  rise  on  the  evil  and  on 
the  good,  and  sendeth  rain  on  the  just  and  on  the  unjust." 
Solomon  seems  to  have  been  convinced  that  a  a  general 
rule,  God  treats  the  righteous  and  the  wicked  alike  in  this 
world.  "  All ,  things,"  he  says,"  come  alike  unto  all ;  there 
is  one  event  to  the  righteous,  and  to  the  wicked."  In 
another  place,  he  says,  "  There  is  a  vanity  done  upon  the 
earth ;  that  there  be  just  men,  unto  whom  it  happeneth 
according  to  the  work  of  the  wicked  ;  again  there  be 
wicked  men  to  whom  it  happeneth  according  to  the  work 
of  the  righteous."  Now  if  it  is  a  fact,  as  is  unequivocally 
asserted  in  these  words,  that  rewards  and  punishments 
are  not  always  distributed  in  this  life  according  to  the 
deserts  of  men,  it  is  strange  to  me,  that  there  should  not 
be  a  future  retribution.  To  my  mind,  there  is  no  truth 
more  indisputable  than  this:  the  goodness  of  God  must 
lead  him,  sooner  or  later,  to  treat  all  his  creatures  accord- 
ing to  their  characters. 

Besides,  upon  the  principle  that  all  will  be  immediate- 
ly happy  after  death,  there  is  often  something  strange 
even  in  those  instances  in  which  God  makes  a  distinction 
between  the  righteous  and  the  wicked  in  this  world. 
Whenever  the  judgments  of  God  upon  the  wicked  are 
such  as  to  carry  them  out  of  the  world,  they  must,  for 
ought  I  can  see,  become  blessings,  as  in  such  cases, 
they  are  always  instrumental  of  removing  the  subjects  oi 
them  from  this  world  to  heaven.  Now  the  flood,  which 
has  uniformly  been  considered  as  a  judgment  upon  those 
who  perished  in  its  waters,  must  upon  the  principle  here 


11 

assumed,  be  considered  as  a  judgment  upon  Noah,  and  a 
blessing  to  those  who  were  destroyed  !  Reader,  look  at 
this  subject  one  moment.  Those  who  perished,  all  went 
immediately  to  heaven,  where  they  were  made  perfectly 
happy  in  the  enjoyment  of  God ;  while  Noah,  after  having 
witnessed  the  agonies  of  a  dying  world,  and  enduring  the 
sorrows  of  this  seemingly  dreadful  catastrophe  for  forty 
days  and  forty  nights,  was  left  an  afflicted,  solitary  indi- 
vidual, with  no  society,  but  his  own  family,  and  no  pos- 
session but  the  ruins  of  his  ark.  To  this  solitary  pilgrim- 
age he  was  driven,  for  no  other  reason  than  for  being  a 
good  man,  while  the  true  cause  of  his  companions  all  being 
received  so  soon  to  heaven  was,  they  had  corrupted  their 
way  before  the  Lord  !  A  similar  reason  must  be  assigned 
why  Lot,  deprived  of  his  wife,  and  dispossessed  of  his  in- 
heritance, was  obliged  to  linger  out  a  pitiable  existence  in 
the  little  city  Zoar,  while  the  inhabitants  ot  Sodom  and 
Gomorrah,  after  one  momentary  pang,  from  the  devouring 
element  in  which  they  were  enveloped,  were  all  received 
to  the  mansions  of  bliss ;  and  why  Moses  was  required  to 
endure  the  labour-,  and  hardships,  and  self  denial  of  a 
journey  through  the  wilderness,  and  to  hear,  for  the  space 
of  forty  years,  the  murmurs  and  reproaches  of  a  rebellious 
people;  while  Pharaoh  and  his  hosts,  who  maliciously 
pursued  him,  all  safely  entered  the  rest  prepared  for  the 
people  of  God,  the  moment  they  were  overwhelmed  in  the 
Red  sea.  This  is  the  strange  attitude  in  which  the  opinion 
under  consideration  presents  all  the  judgments  of  God 
which  have  ever  swept  the  wicked  from  the  earth.  So  far 
from  having  been  evils  to  them  who  suffered  them,  they 
appear  to  have  been  blessings  ! 

On  the  whole,  I  cannot  but  think  it  strange,  that  a  doc- 
trine, attended  with  so  many  strange  things,  should  be 
thought  to  be  true.  There  must  be  something  strange  in 
the  structure  of  that  mind,  or  in  the  feelings  of  which  it 
is  the  subject,  which  can  believe  this  doctrine,  in  the  face 
of  so  much  plain  testimony,  and  in  opposition  to  so  many 
well  known  facts.  The  mind  which  can  believe  this  doc- 
trine in  opposition  to  the  scriptural  facts,  and  scriptural 
testimony  which  present  themselves  against  it,  cannot  be 
prevented  by  Scripture,  from  believing  any  thing  which 
it  wishes  to  be  true.  Do  you  ask,  reader,  what  is  the  rea- 
son, why  so  many  readily  receive  the  false  and  absurd 


12 

doctrine  which  has  now  been  considered.  In  the  Follow- 
ing scripture,  you  have  an  answer, — "  Having  the  under- 
standing darkened,  being  alienated  from  the  life  of  God 
through  the  ignorance  that  is  in  them,  because  of  the 
blindness  of  their  heart." 


Behold !  with  awful  pomp, 

The  Judge  prepares  to  come, 
Th'  archangel  sounds  the  dreadful  trump 

And  wakes  the  gen'ral  doom. 
Nature,  in  wild  amaze, 

Her  dissolution  mourns, 
Blushes  of  blood  the  moon  deface, 

The  sun  to  darkness  turns. 
The  living  look  with  dread  ; 

The  frighted  dead  arise  : 
Start  from  the  monumental  bed, 

'And  lift  their  ghastly  eyes. 
Horrors  all  hearts  appal, 

They  quake  :  they  shriek  ;  they  cry  ; 
Bid  rocks  and  mountain-;  on  them  fall  ; 

But  rocks  and  mountains  fly 
Ye  wilful,  wanton  fools, 

Let  dangers  make  you"  wise  : 
Carnal  professors,  careless  souls, 

Unclose  your  sleeping  eyes. 
'Tie  time  we  all  awake ; ' 

The  dreadful  day  draws  near ; 
Sinners  your  proud  presumption  check, 

And  stop  your,  wild  career 
Now  is  th'  accepted  time, 

To  *  hrist  for  mercy  fly; 
O  turn,  repent,  and  trust  in  him  ; 

And  you  shall  never  die. 


PUBLISHED  BY  N.  BANGS  AND  J.  EMORT, 

for  the  Tract  Society  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  at  the  ConfersnW 
Office,  14  Crosby-street,  New- York., 

AlW  ffoyt.  Pi-intfr. 


NO.  75. 


PROCRASTINATION ; 

OR  AN  ECHO  FROM  THE  VOICE  OF  THE  DYING. 

BT  A  LADY. 

PROCRASTINATION  !  ah  its  fatal  power, 
Steals  time  away  by  minutes,  days,  and  hours.    ' 
Wait  till  to  morrow  is  the  syren's  song  ; 
Time  rolls  along,  but  no  to  morrow  comes, 
To  day  is  gone,  and  resolutions  fair, 
Renew'd  each  day,  lead  souls  to  sad  despair. 
The  light  of  hope,  Procrastination  bears, 
Extinguished  leaves  them  in  darker  shades  of  wo. 

Human  beings  are  endowed  with  rational  powers  ca- 
pable of  judging  and  acting  upon  true  arid  salutary  prin- 
ciples. Furnished  with  the  awful  power  of  free  agency; 
mortals  who  live  but  a  few  days  on  earth,  within  that  short 
space,  fix  their  future  destinies  on  eternal  happiness  or 
everlasting  misery.  Yet  alas  !  men  and  women  thus  no- 
bly exalted  by  their  divine  Creator  believing  these  impor- 
tant truths,  trifle  away  their  short  season  of  probation  in 
the  pursuit  of  earthly  toys,  while  the  salvation  of  their 
souls  is  neglected.  Satisfied  with  living  like  others  with 
whom  they  associate,  they  hasten  across  the  stage  of  life, 
•without  acting  the  part  assigned  them.  Death  draws  the 
curtain,  and  they  are  engulfed  in  remediless  torments, 
to  bewail  their  folly  through  the  countless  ages  of  eternity, 
without  the  least  hope  of  ever  escaping.  No  prospect  of 
annihilation  visits  that  dreary  region.  ,  Ah !  no ;  the  days 
of  mercy  are  past,  and  justice  demands  that  the  wrath  of 
an  angry  God  should  be  poured  upon  such  as  have  reject- 
ed his  unexampled  love  and  refused  to  be  saved  by  his  fret- 
grace.  Is  this  because  God  delights  in  the  misery  of  his 
creatures  1  No ;  let  us  look  at  the  exertions  he  has  made 
to  procure  salvation  for  every  individual  of  the  human  race, 
and  we  shall  be  satisfied  that  if  any  perish  it  will  be  their 
own  fault,  and,  convinced  of  the  justice  and  mercy  of  God, 
we  shall  say  with  the  poet, 

<•'  Oh  !  unexampled  love,  oh !  all  redeeming"  grace, 
How  swiftly  didst  thou  more  to  save  a  fallen  race, 
What  shall  I  do  to  mke  it  known, 
What  thou  for  all  mankind  hast  done !" 
1 


The  God  who  gave  us  an  existence  sent  his  only  beloved 
Son  from  heaven  to  earth  to  ope'n  a  straight  narrow  way, 
in  which  we  all  may  go  from  earth  to  heaven,  who  are 
willing  to  follow  his  footsteps,  receive  his  mercy,  and  obey 
his  directions. 

In  order  to  remove  every  difficulty,  Jesus  the  king  of 
glory  condescended  to  be  clothed  in  humanity,  and  wan- 
dered on  his  lower  dominions  in  voluntary  poverty  and 
pain,  leading  with  patience  the  reproaches  and  insults  of 
his  rebellious  subjects. 

He  even  conflicted  with  devils  that  he  might  conquer 
our  foes;  and  having  wrought  out  salvation  for  us  by  his 
holy  life  and  ignominious  death,  he  went  into  the  grave 
that  he  might  conquer  death,  and  finally  deliver  us  from 
his  dreaded  sting.  Actuated  by  the  same  philanthropic 
spirit  he  ascended  to  heaven,  and  there  pleads  our  cause, 
and  whenever  we  repent  and  believe  on  him  he  is  ready 
to  forgive  us  all  our  sins.  The  Holy  Spirit  likewise  comes 
to  our  hearts  and  pleads  for  permission  to  bring  salvation 
to  us :  the  Scriptures  are  given  as  a  heavenly  directory, 
and  ministers  of  the  gospel  are  commissioned  of  God  and 
sent  to  explain  its  sacked  truths  which  teach  us  the  right 
way  to  heaven  ;  yet  many  shut  their  eyes,  close  their  ears, 
and  harden  their  hearts,  and  refuse  to  be  saved  in  this 
easy  way,  while  they  follow  those  who  have  gone  to  hell 
with  hasty  steps  as  if  impatient  to  be  their  companions. 

When  contemplating  on  the  riches  of  free  grace  I  have 
been  astonished  and  grieved  to  see  what  multitudes  by  the 
power  of  their  own  agency  pull  down  eternal  curses  upon 
their  souls.  I  have  strove  to  inquire  into  the  causes  of 
their  ruin.  Men  do  not  love  misery,  though  they  seek  it 
in  the  error  of  their  ways.  Happiness  is  the  pursuit  of  all ; 
and  almost  every  individual  will  acknowledge  that  religion, 
or  the  renewing  influence  of  divine  grace  received  in  this 
life,  is  the  only  qualification  for  happiness  after  death  ;  and 
they  intend  to  possess  this  in  some  future  period ;  but 
sensual  pleasures  are  the  present  objects  of  their  attention. 
The  deceitful  foe,  "procrastination,"  has  nothing  formida- 
ble or  inimical  in  its  appearance,  but  like  a  deceitful  syren 
it  lures  many  to  the  brink  of  destruction,  from  which  a 
retreat  is  made  with  difficulty  ;  and  not  unfrequently  death 
seizes  its  votaries  and  hurries  them  like  unhappy  captives 
to  the  prison  from  whence  there  is  no  escape.  Sometimes 


deprived  of  reason,  they  are  incapable  of  making  their 
peace  with  God.  This  was  the  case  with  a  young  lady  of 
my  acquaintance. 

When  she  first  came  into  the  neighbourhood  where  I 
lived,  a  friend  introduced  her  to  me  in  the  character  of  an 
awakened  sinner,  and  requested  me  to  take  an  interest  in 
her  spiritual  welfare.  I  frequently  conversed  with  her  on 
the  subject  of  salvation,  the  means  of  grace  by  which  it 
might  be  obtained,  and  she  received  it  as  a  mark  of  friend- 
ship, requested  an  interest  in  the  prayers  of  Christians,  and 
esteemed  it  a  great  privilege  to  enjoy  their  society.  She 
often  wept  over  her  wretched  state,  but  did  not  fly  to  Jesus 
for  help.  Though  in  her  deportment  she  manifested  the 
sobriety  of  a  Christian,  she  evidently  procrastinated  the 
exercises  of  repentance  and  faith,  and  did  not  acquiesce 
in  the  plan  of  salvation.  The  Holy  Spirit  was  grieved,  and 
she  gradually  became  more  indifferent  to  the  important 
concerns  of  eternity. 

The  following  season  she  returned  to  her  native  place, 
several  miles  distant,  and  I  saw  her  no  more.  Soon  after 
she  died ;  I  was  informed  by  her  sister  that  in  the  com- 
mencement of  the  fever  she  was  deranged,  and  continued 
in  that  state  until  the  lamp  of  life  was  extinguished,  ex- 
cept one  short  interval,  when  she  appeared  rational  and 
sensible  of  her  situation,  but  greatly  distressed  in  view  of 
a  future  state.  She  said,  "  I  believe  I  shall  die,  and  if  I 
do,  what  will  become  of  my  poor  soul?"  But  little  was 
said  to  her  on  the  subject  of  a  preparation  for  death,  fear- 
ing the  effect  on  her  mental  powers.  No  doubt  her  dis- 
tress of  mind  assisted  the  disease  in  driving  reason  from 
its  throne.  Not  the  least  indication  was  given,  that  a  ray 
of  hope  visited  her  soul,  and  I  did  not,learn,  that  any  of 
her  acquaintance  indulged  a  hope,  that  she  was  prepared 
for  heaven.  The  first  thoughts  that  arose  in  my  mind 
were  distressing :  procrastination  has  proved  her  ruin ! 
But  have  I  done  my  duty  in  warning  her  to  flee  the  wrath 
to  come?  I  thank  God,  that  his  Spirk  taught  me  to  shun 
this  foe,  in  the  performance  of  my  duty  to  her,  and  this 
consideration  shall  induce  me  to  be  faithful  in  warning 
others.  Oh  that  I  had  kept  this  resolution. 

Through  the  abundant  mercy  and  long  suffering  of  God 
some  who  have  put  off  this  great  work  of  making  their 
peace  with  him,  have  been  brought  on  their  dying  beds  to 


prove  the  eflicacy  of  free  grace,  in  snatching  (hem  from 
everlasting  ruin.  But  what  has  been  their  language  1  Will 
you  regard  their  testimonies  ?  I  shall  quote  some  extracts 
from  two  of  these  evidences  whose  pathetic  addresses  to 
me  when  they  were  tormented  with  mental  agonies,  have 
made  a  deep  impression  on  my  mind,  and  given  rise  to  the 
foregoing  reflections.  I  feel  it  an  imperious  duty  to  obey 
the  charges  given  me,  with  their  dying  lips,  and  while  their 
bodies  are  mouldering  in  the  dust,  to  give  an  echo  to  their 
dying  admonitions,  praying  that  the  reader  may  hear,  take 
the  warning,  and  flee  immediately  to  Christ  for  refuge. 

As  an  echo  is  fainter  and  not  so  distinct  as  the  original 
sound,  so  my  pen  can  never  describe  the  emotions,  with 
which  their  language  was  expressed ;  I  shall,  therefore, 
give  only  a  brief  description  of  their  character,  and  select 
but  a  few  sentences  out  of  the  abundance  which  they  utter- 
ed ;  but  sufficient  to  pourtray  the  feelings  of  a  soul  who 
had  tried  the  path  you  are  pursuing.  Receive  their  friendly 
advice,  and  if  their  evidence  is  not  sufficient,  I  refer  you 
to  the  testimonies  of  those  of  your  acquaintance  who  have 
put  off  religion  until  death  approached.  I  would  fain  re- 
call your  feelings  when  your  hearts  were  melted  with  their 
dying  admonitions ;  I  would  bring  to  your  mind  the  pious 
resolutions  you  then  formed,  and  on  them  I  would  write, 
"Procrastination"  for  these  have  been  like  the  early  cloud 
and  morning  dew. 

A  young  woman  who  had  been  educated  by  a  widowed 
mother,  in  an  unusually  plain  style,  and  taught  from  her 
infancy  that  the  great  object  of  life  was  to  prepare  for  eter- 
nity ;  when  about  nineteen  years  of  age,  was  by  a  gradual 
decline,  in  about  seven  months,  reduced  from  the  appear- 
ance of  health  to  a  lifeless  skeleton.  From  her  infancy 
she  was  greatly  affected  and  terrified  whenever  there  was 
a  thunder  shower,  and  I  have  no  doubt  at  these  seasons 
she  formed  many  good  resolutions.  Being  naturally  re- 
served and  bashful,  her  feelings  and  views  on  the  subject 
of  religion,  were  not  known  to  her  friends  previous  to  her 
sickness.  When  first  taken  ill,  she  concluded  her  com- 
plaint was  a  family  consumption,  and  she  must  soon  follow 
a  sister  who  a  few  years  before,  had  gone  down  to  the 
silent  grave,  and  appeared  alarmed  in  view  of  her  future 
prospects.  Her  distress  of  soul  increased  more  rapidly 
than  her  disease ;  she  sent  a  request  to  the  members  oi' 


the  Methodist  society  to  hold  a  prayer  meeting  in  her 
chamber :  several  of  us  attended  and  were  deeply  affected 
in  witnessing  the  change  in  her  appearance. 

The  thoughts  of  eternity  seemed  wholly  to  occupy  her 
attention,  and  so  overcome  the  fear  of  man,  that  she  spoke 
with  boldness,  publicly  requested  Christians  to  pray  for 
her,  lamenting  her  miserable  state,  and  warning  the  uncon- 
verted to  flee  immediately  to  Christ  for  refuge.  She  con- 
tinued for  several  weeks  in  a  similar  state;  when  thafc 
same  enemy  who  had  told  her  there  was  time  enough  to" 
prepare  for  death,  suggested  that  it  was  too  late,  and  hav- 
ing delayed  a  preparation  until  a  sick  bed,  God  would  now 
refuse  to  hear  her  prayers;  and  believing  there  was  no 
hope  in  her  case  she  resigned  herself  to  despair,  and  be- 
sought her  friends  to  say  nothing  to  her  respecting  a  future 
. state,  saying,  "  It  only  distresses  me,  and  will  do  no  good  ; 
all  the  comfort  I  shall  ever  have  will  be  the  few  days  I 
have  on  earth.  I  must  spend  a  long  eternity  in  indescri- 
bable misery."  She  even  refused  to  hear  the  Scriptures 
read,  and  would  fly  from  the  room,  or  snatch  the  book  from 
the  reader,  and  in  the  most  lamentable  tone,  beg  of  them 
not  to  torment  her.  Some  Christians  visited  her,  but  it 
was  evident  that  nothing  but  the  respect  which  good  man- 
ners demanded  induced  her  to  hear  them  converse  or  pray. 
Several  of  different  denominations  touched  with  Christian 
sympathy,  continued  to  plead  with  God  in  her  behalf.  My 
soul  was  frequently  in  an  agony,  while  praying  for  her ;  I 
visited  her  several  times,  but  the  most  solemn  and  interest- 
ing seasons  were  about  three  weeks  after  she  had  ceased  to 
ask  for  mercy,  and  resigned  herself  to  sudden  despair.  One 
Saturday  I  called  on  her,  as  I  was  passing  to  visit  some 
friends ;  when  I  went  in  she  appeared  glad  to  see  me,  1 
asked  how  her  health  was,  &>c.  She  replied  with  a  kind  of 
apathy.  I  then  observed,  that  as  her  disease  was  evidently 
increasing  I  wished  to  know  the  state  of  her  mind.  She 
immediately  raised  herself  in  bed,  turned  her  head  from  me, 
as  though  determined  not  to  hear,  she  called  to  her  attend- 
ant for  some  food;  it  was  given  her;  she  manifested  an  ea- 
gerness and  an  agitation  like  a  person  flying  from  danger, 
which  struck  us  with  horror.  I  again  asked  her  what 
were  her  views  of  a  future  state,  she  turned  her  face  from 
me  and  refused  to  answer,  after  making  a  few  remarks  on 
the  importance  of  improving  the  few  moments  she  had  left, 


iu  preparing  for  eternity,  and  of  the  abundant  mercy  of 
God.  She  exclaimed,  "Oh  do  not  say  a  word  to  me,  do 
not  aggravate  my  misery."  With  a  pained  heart  I  left  the 
room.  Her  mother  and  sister  followed  me  and  begged 
that  I  would  call  as  I  returned,  and  insisted  that  I  should 
continue  in  my  endeavours,  to  persuade  her  to  seek  salva- 
tion. Accordingly  I  went  to  see  her  again  in  the  evening 
and  was  informed  that  she  had  been  very  uneasy  during 
my  absence,  on  account  of  my  leaving  her  so  abruptly. 
Being  told  it  was  because  I  was  grieved  with  her  conduct, 
she  promised  to  converse  on  the  subject  proposed,  if  I 
would  come  in  when  I  returned.  Accordingly  I  spoke  to 
tier  in  the  mildest  manner  possible  of  the  goodness  of  God., 
which  had  left  her  a  little  season  longer  to  prepare  for 
death ;  suddenly  she  arose  from  her  pillow,  and  fixing  her 
eyes  upon  me  with  all  the  agonies  of  despair  depicted  in  her 
countenance,  said,  "  Why  did  you  not  tell  me  of  these  things 
two  years  ago?  You  saw  my  danger ;  I  did  not;  and  had 
you  then  begged  of  me  to  receive  salvation  as  you  do  now, 
it  might  have  done  some  good  ;  but  now  it  is  too  late.  Oh  I 
why  did  you  not  warn  me  before  ?  Now  it  only  aggravates 
my  misery.  You  do  not  know  how  it  distresses  me  only 
to  think  of  the  subject."  I  was  dumb,  but  my  aunt  replied, . 
tl  Do  you  recollect  at  a  certain  meeting  how  she  warned 
all  the  young  people  to  improve  their  present  probation  in 
preparing  for  death  ?"  "  Oh  yes,"  said  she,  "  but  then  I 
had  no  ear  to  hear  it,"  and  fell  back  upon  her  bed  apparent- 
ly exhausted  and  agitated  with  agonies  of  mental  pain.  My 
aunt  took  the  Bible  to  read  to  her ;  she  rose  up  and  at- 
tempted to  seize  the  book,  but  was  not  able  to  reach  it. 
We  entreated  her  to  hear  the  promises  of  the  gospel,  and 
ask  God  for  mercy ;  but  we  could  not  persuade  her  to  say 
as  much  as  "Lord  have  mercy."  She  said,"  Do  you  sup- 
pose it  will  do  any  good :  no,  it  will  increase  my  misery." 
Her  piteous  waitings  were  enough  to  rend  the  hardest  heart. 
She  reluctantly  consented  to  have  prayers,  saying,  "  It  will 
do  me  no  good."  While  we  attempted  to  pray  her  agonies 
were  indescribable.  The  next  day  I  went  again  to  see  her 
and  found  her  in  a  similar  state  of  mind,  and  endeavoured 
all  in  my  power  to  persuade  her  to  pray  for  herself,  but 
all  in  vain.  The  sabbath  following  I  spent  with  an  inti- 
mate friend  of  hers,  who  had  for  years  enjoyed  religion  ;  and 
now  viewing  death  near,  was  happy — its  sting  was  destroy- 

73 


Qd.  She  had  requested  the  brethren  to  come  after  the  public 
service  and  pray  with  her :  and  after  much  entreaty  her  poor 
desponding  companion  was  persuaded  to  ride  about  a  half 
mile  to  take,  as  she  supposed,  her  last  farewell  of  her 
friend.  Affecting  was  the  interview :  the  contrast  in  their 
appearance  and  feelings  cannot  be  described.  Both  lying 
upon  one  bed  expecting  in  a  short  time  to  go  into  eternity  ; 
one  with  a  calm  serenity  of  soul  waiting  the  approach  of 
the  welcome  messenger  ;  the  other  with  horror  wishing  to 
fly  from  the  dreaded  tyrant,  but  no  prospect  of  escape ; 
while  the  former  was  entreating  her  in  the  most  affection- 
ate language,  to  come  to  lier  Saviour,  whose  love  and 
mercy  would  receive  her  even  in  the  last  extremity.  The 
poor  distressed  creature  was  melted  into  tenderness.  She 
lay  and  wept  while  several  prayers  were  made,  springing  up 
suddenly  she  cried  aloud,  "  Lord  iiave  mercy !  Have  mercy 
on  me  a  poor  distressed  sinner !"  Acknowledging  the* 
justice  of  God,  she  said,  "  I  will  continue  to  pray  till  my 
latest  moment !  perhaps  he  will  show  mercy  to  me."  Oh  I 
how  earnestly  did  she  request  us  to  pray  for  her.  She  was 
so  exhausted  that  it  was  with  difficulty  she  returned  home, 
and  I  believe  never  rode  out  after  this,  but  she  continued 
earnestly  seeking  pardon  for  sin,  and  wanted  her 
friends  to  read  the  Scriptures  to  her.  A  few  mornings 
after  she  was  heard  singing,  which  excited  the  surprise  of 
the  family  ;  on  going  into  her  room,  they  found  her  rejoicing, 
and  horrid  despair  had  yielded  to  an  humble  confidence 
in  Gfod,  which  produced  a  calm  serenity  of  mind.  From 
that  time  her  countenance  as  well  as  actions  expressed  tho 
change,  though  she  said  but  little,  and  never  professed  to 
have  a  clear  evidence  of  her  acceptance  with  God  ;  yet 
viewing  his  goodness  and  long  forbearance,  she  felt  a  peace 
in  casting  herself  upon  his  mercy.  Her  strength  gradually 
decayed,  and  about  two  months  after,  her  spirit  went  to 
meet  her  Judge. 

After  her  death  a  paper  that  she  had  written  in  her  sick- 
ness was  handed  to  me,  from  which  I  shall  select  a  few 
paragraphs.  "Oh  !  the  vanity  of  human  life.  Oh !  what 
is  time  compared  to  eternity,  or  vain  man  to  the  majesty 
of  God  !  When  we  hear  the  mighty  thunders  roaring,  H 
shows  us  the  terribleness  of  God  who  is  able  to  crash  us 
in  a  moment.  The  awful  hour  is  coming,  even  the  hour 
of  death  will  come  upon  us;  and  yet,  how  poor  mortals 
73 


8 

hasten  to  sin  out  their  day  of  life.  Oh  !  remember/  all 
ye  youth  that  your  bodies  must  be  brought  down  to  the 
dust,  and  your  souls  pass  the  dark  valley  of  death,  never 
to  return  to  earth  again.  Let  us  consider  that  we  are 
acting  for  a  never  ending  eternity,  put  far  away  vanity  and 
pride.  Oh  !  reflect.  Is  not  the  Lord  angry  with  us  when 
we  are  pursuing  the  fashions  of  the  world,  drawing,  twist- 
ing and  trying  one  way  and  another  to  see  what  will  suit 
our  vanity  best  ?  It  will  not  save  our  souls  from  bitterness. 
While  we  are  studying  to  please  the  world,  we  are  not 
seeking  to  please  God.  Which  is  the  most  necessary  ? 
Let  our  <  wn  souls  be  the  judges.  Why  did  I  not  say, 
come,  let  us  live  for  eternity  ?  for  there  is  nothing  here 
that  can  satisfy  us  or  feast  our  souls  without  the  love  of 
God.  Principalities,  powers,  yea,  all  the  world  is  nothing, 
the  soul  is  all ;  if  we  lose  it  we  lose  all.  Oh  !  the  folly 
of  my  past  life.  Oh  !  the  stubborness  of  my  will.  Why- 
did  I  not  stir  about  my  Master's  business  1  Then  would 
it  have  been  well  with  me.  Oh  Lord  !  I  do  lament  my 
past  folly.  I  am  afflicted  because  I  have  rebelled  against 
thee  ;  but  I  beseech  thee  to  blot  out  my  iniquities ;  shut 
not  the  door  of  mercy  for  ever  against  me,  but  may  I  be 
brought  to  view  the  clear  light  of  the  gospel,  and  my  heart 
be  made  clean,  this  side  the  grave.  Help,  Lord,  or  I 
perish.  Jesus  saith, '  Come  unto  me,  all  ye  that  are  weary 
and  heavy  laden ;'  oh  !  that  I  may  come  aright.  Nothing 
short  of  the  love  of  God  can  redeem  my  soul.  Lei  me 
never  give  over  seeking  it  nor  suffer  mvself  to  rest  until  I 
rest  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ ;  then  may  I  grow  in  grace 
till  I  reach  thy  holy  hill.  The  earth  mourneth  and  fadeth 
away,  and  the  haughty  of  the  earth  must  perish.  Dear 
youth,  cry  to  the  Lord  for  mercy.  What  will  it  avail  you 
to  sell  your  souls  for  you  know  not  what  ?  Arise,  take  up 
your  cross  and  follow  the  leadings  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  I 
beseech  you  not  to  put  off  this  work  of  repentance  ;  for 
the  longer  you  neglect  it,  the  harder  it  will  seem  to  hum- 
ble yourselves  before  the  Lord  and  seek  the  salvation  of 
your  souls.  Sinner,  what  do  you  mean,  who  trust  in 
vanity  and  speak  lies,  watching  where  you  can  deceive  an- 
other with  your  guile,  and  spend  your  whole  time  in  study- 
ing vanity  and  deceit?  Oh  turn,  why  will  ye  die?  Oh  ! 
give  place  for  the  Holy  Spirit  to  purify  your  hearts ;  then 
you  will  have  begun  a  good  work.  Let  us  strive  to  possess 

75 


a  lamblike  spirit.  Let  us  become  like  little  children,  for* 
giving  one  another  and  striving  to  live  in  peace.  Why 
will  we  not  lay  up  a  treasure  in  heaven,  and  strive  to  seek 
a  city  out  of  sight  and  not  have  our  affections  set  on  things 
below,;  for  this  earth  is  not  our  home."  The  whola  tenor 
of  her  language  and  deportment  was  expressive  of  similar 
views  and  feelings,  though  it  was  expressed  in  broken, 
scattered  fragments. 

The  other  was  the  daughter  of  my  class  leader.  She 
had  from  her  infancy  been  dedicated  to  the  Lord,  and 
instructed  in  the  principles  of  true  religion,  believed  its 
reality,  and  would  converse  sensibly  on  the  subject.  I 
have  seen  her  apparently  awakened,  but  she  soon  closed 
her  eyes  against  the  light,  and  pursued  youthful  vanities. 
She  was  naturally  ingenuous,  active,  and  agreeable ;  and 
having  the  advantages  of  a  good  education,  her  mental 
improvements  were  considerably  above  the  mediocrity. 
When  told  that  there  was  no  happiness  to  be  derived  from 
worldly  pleasures,  she  would  say,  "I  am  sure  I  do  take 
much  satisfaction,  but  I  know  religion  is  necessary,  and  I 
intend  to  seek  and  obtain  it  when  I  am  old  enough  to  keep 
it."  She  would  frequently  refer  to  some  person  who  had 
once  been  serious  and  became  indifferent  again,  or  some 
professors  of  religion,  who  did  not  live  exemplary,  and  say, 
"  When  I  get  religion,  I  will  not  run  after  the  vanities  of 
the  world,  t  will  strive  to  be  a  good  Christian ;  is  it  any 
better  to  do  as  they  have  done,  th.in  to  make  no  preten- 
sions to  religion  ?"  Influenced  by  these  feelings,  and  a 
fondness  for  dress,  company,  and  youthful  pleasures,  she 
continued  to  procrastinate  the  day  of  repentance. 

When  a  little  past  sixteen,  she  began  to  teach  a  school ; 
being  well  qualified  and  highly  pleased  with  her  employ- 
ment, she  succeeded  in  gaining  the  affection  of  her  pupils, 
and  the  highest  approbation  of  her  employers.  The  next 
season  she  entered  in  the  same  district,  elated  with  all  the 
vigour  and  ambition  of  youth ;  but  in  the  bloom  of  life,  this 
promising  flower  was  blasted  by  the  cold  winds  of  disease. 
A  few  months  previous  to  her  illness,  some  friends  who 
felt  a  solicitude  for  her  spiritual  welfare,  strove  to  convince 
her  of  the  unsatisfying  and  transitory  nature  of  earthly 
enjoyments ;  but  she  invariably  manifested  a  disbelief  of 
those  truths,  considering  her  own  experience  a  refutation 
of  them,  for  now  she  had  every  thing  exactly  according  to 
75 


10 

her  desires.  Her  clothes  were  prepared  as  she  wished  for 
the  summer.  Hei  employment  in  the  place  she  chose,  and 
at  such  a  distance  from  home,  that  she  would  be  beyond 
parental  restraint ;  and  to  complete  her  happiness,  she 
expected  to  have  the  society  of  a  companion  with  'whom 
she  had  for  many  years  enjoyed  the  most  intimate  friend- 
ship. She  had  stored  her  mind  with  useful  knowledge, 
imbibed  virtuous  principles,  and  by  her  agreeable  deport- 
ment and  propriety  of  conduct,  gained  the  affection  and 
esteem  of  her  acquaintance  ;  and  now  relied  on  these 
accomplishments  to  direct  her  future  conduct. 

They  succeeded  in  their  calculations  and  all  their  pros- 
pects were  favourable,  though  as  they  afterwards  acknow- 
ledged, aft  .reboding  of  evil  sometimes  disturbed  anticipated 
delight.  Her  health  soon  began  to  fail,  and  too  close  an 
application  in  school,  with  a  neglect  of  temperate  and  pru- 
dent care  of  her  health,  produced  an  ulceration  of  the  lungs. 
Overcome  by  disease  she  began  to  feel  an  uneasiness  re- 
specting her  future  state  ;  knowing  her  unpreparedness  for 
death,  but  was  reluctant  in  conversing  upon  this  subject. 
Though  convinced  of  the  uncertainty  of  earthly  prospects, 
she  appeared  unwilling  to  give  them  up,  still  indulging  the 
hope  that  she  would  be  restored  to  health,  and  have  a  bet- 
ter time  to  attend  to  religion  ;  at  the  same  time  manifested 
a  determination  to  repent  of  sin  and  seek  an  interest  in 
Christ  when  she  recovered ;  but  was  apprehensive  a  sick 
bed  repentance  would  not  be  genuine  or  lasting.  She  was 
confined  in  a  pious  family,  who  did  all  in  their  power  for 
her,  and  added  their  counsel  and  prayers :  and  many  of  her 
acquaintance  were  engaged  in  earnest  prayer  for  the  con- 
version of  her  soul.  As  soon  as  she  was  able  to  ride  home, 
her  kind  parents  conveyed  her  thither.  Soon  after  a  prayer 
meeting  previously  appointed,  was  attended  at  her  father's. 
Every  Christian  present  seemed  engaged  in  fervent  sup- 
plication and  earnest  intercessions,  that  God  would  awaken 
and  convert  her  soul  and  prepare  her  for  the  designs  and 
dispensations  of  Providence  either  in  life  or  death.  Faith 
claimed  the  promise  that  God  would  answer  the  united 
prayers  of  his  children.  She  afterwards  greatly  lamented 
that  the  hope  of  a  longer  space  induced  her  to  procrastinate 
an  earnest  striving  in  the  pursuit  of  salvation,  and  that  she 
did  not  request  Christians  to  pray  for  her  as  she  felt  it  her 
duty.  A  few  weeks  after  she  discharged  a  quantity  of  blood 


11 

from  the  lungs,  which  alarmed  both  herself  and  her  attend- 
ants and  banistied  the  hopes  of  a  recovery.  Being  con- 
vinced of  the  necessity  of  standing  in  continual  readiness, 
to  go  at  his  summons,  she  earnestly  cried,  "  Lord  have 
mercy  on  me,  and  prepare  me  for  death."  Her  father 
said,  "  My  child,  if  you  had  religion  I  could  give  you  up." 
She  replied,  "  I  must  have  religion,  and  I  must  have  it  now, 
I  cannot  die  without  it."  A  physician  was  immediately 
called.  It  was  ibund  necessary  to  calm  the  emotions  of 
her  mind  as  far  as  possible,  to  prevent  immediate  danger. 
Her  father  said,  "  If  you  should  live  until  morning,  I  hope 
you  will'use  what  strength  you  have  in  seeking  the  Lord." 
"  Oh,"  said  she,  "  I  must  not  wait  till  morning,  what  if  I 
should  die  before  morning,  what  would  become  of  my  poor 
soul  ?"  So  earnest  was  she  now  to  obtain  an  interest  in 
Christ,  that  she  could  hardly  be  persuaded  to  cease  in  her 
earnest  cries  for  mercy,  fearing  to  go  to  sleep  lest  she 
should  awake  in  hell. 

Reader,  pause  a  moment  and  consider,  what  must  be 
the  painful  feelings  of  a  soul  viewing  itself  thus  exposed 
to  eternal  misery,  and  do  not  procrastinate  a  preparation 
for  eternity.  From  this  time  she  sought  in  earnest  for 
salvation,  through  the  merits  of  Christ,  renouncing  worldly 
entanglements  and  asked  the  prayers  of  Christians.  The 
Bible  was  her  constant  companion,  and  she  read  and  prayed 
as  much  as  her  strength  would  admit,  and  every  night 
appeared  unwilling  to  go  to  sleep,  without  an  evidence  that 
her  sins  were  pardoned ;  often  saying,  "  I,  feel  as  if  I  ought 
not  to  shut  my  eyes  to  sjeep  until  1  obtain  religion ;  I  think 
it  is  likely  I  may  not  live  till  morning;  and  oh  my  poor 
soul,  what  will  become  of  my  poor  soul  ?"  One  observing 
that  she  ought  to  be  much  engaged  in  prayer,  with  tears 
she  replied,  "  I  am  trying  to  pray  almost  all  of  the  time." 
The  exercises  of  her  mind  were  such  for  one  week,  thai 
she  took  but  little  notice  of  any  thing,  that  was  not  connect- 
ed with  her  soul's  salvation,  often  saying,  "  I  do  repent, 
oh  that  I  could  believe."  Though  she  drank  deep  of  the 
bitter  cup  of  repentance,  it  was  not  mixed  with  despair, 
for  she  believed  God  would  have  mercy  and  save  her  soul. 
One  evening  I  called  with  some  friends;  we  found  her 
weeping'  and  with  sobs  of  grief,  she  said,  "  Do  pray  Ibr 
me,  I  cannot  close  my  eyes  to  sleep  until  I  obtain  pardon 
for  sin."  Soon  after,  her  father  came  in  and  inquired, 

75 


12 

how  she  had  felt  through  the  day.  She  replied,  "  no 
better."  He  said,  "  But  you  believe  that  God  will  have 
mercy."  "  Oh  yes,  lather,  what  should  I  do  if  I  did  not 
believe  ?  I  could  not  live."  She  devoutly  joined  in  our 
earnest  prayers  until  her  feeble  body  was  so  fatigued  as  to 
be  unable  to  bear  any  farther  exencise.  I  staid  to  watch 
with  her,  and  while  striving  to  persuade  her  to  take  some 
rest,  she  said  to  me,  "  Oh  if  people  in  health  knew  how 
hard  it  is  to  obtain  religion  on  a  sick  bed,  they  would  not 
put  it  oft'.  I  believe  Christians  do  wrong  in  telling  how  easy 
it  is  to  get  religion,  because  people  will  think  if  it  is  so 
easy  they  can  obtain  it  at  any  time.  Oh  I  find  it  very 
hard,  I  try  to  believe,  I  pray,  I  struggle,  till  my  strength 
is  exhausted  and  find  no  comfort.  Oh  if  I  had  strength,  I 
would  not  sleep  until  I  had  found  my  Saviour." 

A  few  days  after,  while  striving  to  exercise  faith  on  that 
passage,  "  Come  unto  me  all  ye  that  are  weary  and  heavy 
laden  and  I  will  give  you  rest,"  Christ  revealed  his  love 
and  mercy,  and  a  calm  peace  succeeded ;  but  the  direct 
witness  of  justification  was  not  then  given.  She  acknow- 
ledged the  change  in  her  feelings,  but  was  not  satisfied, 
and  continued  to  pray  and  agonize  for  the  witness  of  the 
Spirit.  She  observed  to  a  friend  that  she  felt  it  to  be 
her  duty  to  warn  others  not  to  put  off  religion,  as  she  had 
done,  thinking  it  was  not  proper  for  one  who  had  not  the 
evidence  of  being  a  Christian  :  on  receiving  some  encou- 
ragement, she  said,  ''  If  I  am  not  a  Christian,  I  may  warn 
others  from  the  feelings  I  have  of  the  evil  of  sin  and  its 
dreadful  consequences."  Soon  after,  some  of  her  young 
companions  called  to  see  her ;  she  felt  as  before,  and  began 
to  tell  them  that  her  great  anxiety  was  not  so  much  to 
recover,  as  to  be  prepared  for  death,  and  affectionately 
warned  those  present  while  in  health  not  to  neglect  their 
souls'  salvation  as  she  had  done.  They  were  all  melted 
into  tears,  and  the  ardour  of  her  soul  seemed  to  communi- 
cate strength  to  her  body,  so  that  she  continued  to  exhort 
them  some  time ;  a  ray  of  divine  light  broke  into  her  soul, 
and  she  declared  that  at  that  moment  she  had  received 
the  witness  that  she  was  reconciled  to  God  through  the 
merits  of  Christ.  From  that  time  she  improved  many 
opportunities  in  warning  her  young  companions  to  prepare 
for  death.  One  sabbath,  four  or  five  of  them  called  to  see 
her.  She  just  spoke  to  themj  but  being  feeble  closed  her 

75 


eyes;  after  lying  awhile  composed,  she  said,  •  My  prospects 
are  very  different  from  what  they  were  last  spring.  They 
were  then  as  promising  as  yours  are  now."  With  a  full 
heart,  she  added,  "  I  shall  now  die  and  be  forgotten  as 
others  have  been  who  died  years  ago ;  oh  eternity  !  eter- 
nity !  Girls  prepare  to  meet  me  in  heaven  ;  seek  religion 
now ;  you  may  fancy  that  you  shall  die  with  some  linger- 
ing disease,  but  do  not  put  off  a  preparation  for  death. 
A  sick  bed  is  a  poor  place  for  repentance."  She  was 
asked  v/hat  she  wished  to  have  prepared  for  grave  clothes. 
She  replied,  ''Get  nothing  new."  Being  told  some  new 
things  woidd  be  necessary,  she  manifested  a  desire  that 
her  friends  would  do  as  they  thought  proper ;  saying, 
"  The  body  will  soon  turn  to  corruption.  It  is  of  so  much 
less  importance  than  the  soul,  that  it  is  hardly  worth  a 
thought,"  and  spake  with  regret  of  the  precious  time  she 
had  spent  in  adorning  the  body.  After  she  was  struck 
with  death,  she  requested  brother.  W.  to  preach  her  fune- 
ral sermon,  adding,  "tell  the  young  people  from  me,  not  to 
put  off  religion,  as  I  have  done :  for  a  sick  bed  is  a  poor 
place  to  prepare  for  death."  After  lying  a  few  moments, 
she  said,  "  But,  glory  be  to  God,  it  is  better  than  no 
place." 

Reader,  I  beseech  you  not  to  take  liberty  from  the  mercy 
of  God  to  these  poor  souls  to  persist  in  sin,  and  be  not  so 
presumptuous  as  to  make  the  goodness  of  God  a  plea 
for  your  rebellion  against  him. 

ANNA. 


UNHAPPY  DEATH  OF  MRS.  II.  A. 

AUTHENTIC. 

MRS.  H.  A.  was  the  wife  of  a  respectable  merchant  iu 
Cheshire,  N.  II.  Her  husband  was  awakened  to  a  sense 
of  his  lost  estate,  and  began  seeking  peace  with  God,  by 
prayer,  &c.  Against  this  her  lofty  spirit  rose  with  vio- 
lence. Now  and  then  she  would  attend  meeting  with  him, 
and  generally  would  feel  the  strivings  of  the  Spirit  for  some 
time  afterwards ;  but  the  awful  thought  of  being  "reproaclt- 


14 

°dfor  Christ's  sake,"  determined  her  to  pursue  her  for- 
mer course.  But  she  was  not  long  permitted  to  regale 
herself  in  worldly  sweets,  and  bask  in  the  beams  of  pros- 
perity, for  a  fatal  consumption,  like  a  greedy  vulture,  had 
seized  upon  her  vitals. 

On  the  1st  July,  1807, 1  moved  into  the  neighbourhood 
— saw  her  rapidly  declining,  and  felt  great  solicitude  for 
the  salvation  of  her  soul.  She  was  insensible  of  her  dan- 
ger, but  thought  she  should  soon  recover.  This,  perhaps, 
\vas  one  cause  why  she  did  not  like  to  say  any  thing  about 
religion.  I  thought  if  I  could  but  converse  with  her 
alone,  she  would  indulge  more  freedom.  She  was  in  the 
habit  of  riding,  when  the  morning  was  pleasant,  and  she 
accepted  my  offer  to  attend  her  in  her  carriage.  She 
moved  slowly — I  wished  her  to  lay  aside  restraint,  and 
inform  me  what  her  views  were  in  regard  to  religion — tho 
state  of  her  soul,  and  the  nature  of  her  disease.  She  did 
so — told  me  she  considered  religion  of  great  value — had 
often  seen  and  felt  the  need  of  it,  and  still  at  times 
felt  the  Spirit  striving  with  her  ;  but  she  did  not  think  he}1 
complaint  alarming  :  that  if  she  thought  she  should  not 
recover,  she  should  want  religion  above  every  thing  else. 
I  felt  some  hope,  that  even  at  the  eleventh  hour,  she  might 
be  accepted  of  God.  But  the  last  time  I  rode  with  her, 
I  found  her  mind  more  on  the  world,  and  less  inclined  to 
talk  upon  the  concerns  of  eternity. 

How  astonishing  the  fact !  that  the  god  of  this  world, 
not  only  "  blinds  the  minds  of  them  that  believe  not"  but 
deludes  them  with  prospects  of  long  life,  even  to  the  gates 
of  death ! 

At  the  dawn  of  day,  September  2,  I  was  called  to  go 
and  pray  with  her.  I  hasted  to  her  bed  side,  and  asked 
what  I  should  pray  for?  She  replied,  "  I  must  die  soon, 
and  I  want  you  to  pray  that  I  may  go  to  heaven."  Ah ! 
thought  I,  how  can  I  pray  for  this,  while  I  cannot  believe 
that  she  has  any  fitness  for  the  place.  I  prayed  the  Lord 
to  show  her  her  situation,  aud  even  at  the  close  of  life 
appear  for  her  salvation ;  but  the  heavens  seemed  shut, 
and  prayer  unavailing.  I  sat  down  by  her  bed  side  to 
witness  the  attack  of  the  king  of  terrors,  who  now  appear- 
ed rushing,  with  relentless  fury,  upon  his  agonizing  victim. 
The  room  by  this  time  was  nearly  filled  with  family  con- 
nexions, (most  .of  whom  were  enemies  of  the  cross  of 

75 


15 

Christ,)  who  had  -come  in  to  witness  the  solemnities  of  the 
parting  scene.  She  lay  with  her  eyes  alternately  raised 
towards  heaven,  her  lips  moving,  and  an  expressive  excite- 
ment in  her  countenance,  which  drew  the  eyes  of  all  upon 
her.  Perceiving  her  to  be  praying,  I  put  my  ear  to  her 
lips  to  ascertain  her  whispers,  but  in  vain.  Her  physician 
was  critically  noticing  the  state  of  her  pulse — all  seemed 
eager  that  life  should  be  Continued,  that  they  might  know 
the  effects  of  her  prayers — hope  seemed  to  beam  in  each 
countenance,  as  well  as  in  my  heart,  when  suddenly  she 
opened  her  eyes,  and  spoke  with  an  audible  voice — "  The 
manifestation  is  come,  and  it  is  plainly  shown  to  me  that 
I  am  a  going  to  HELL  !  HEL?,  !  HELL  !"  Who  can  des- 
cribe the  consternation  that  seized  the  spectators  !  After 
pausing  a  moment  she  said — "  I  have  been  praying  thr 
Lord  to  show  me  what  my  state  will  be  after  death,  and 
he  has,  and  I  must  go  to  hell  !"  Her  father  in  law  (per- 
haps a  deist,  who  at  other  times  could  sport  with  prayers, 
especially  women's  praying)  came  to  her  bed  side,  and 
sought  to  compose  her  mind  ;  and  entreated  her  to  lay  her 
hand  on  her  breast  and  say,  God,  be  merciful,  and  all 
would  be  well.  "  Ah!  father,"  said  she,  "once  I  might 
have  obtained  mercy — the  Lord  called  me,  and  I  thought 
I  would  serve  him — I  tried  to  ;  but  my  heart  was  so 
PROUD — I  was  so  wicked  the  Lord  would  not  regard  me, 
now  I  have  sinned  away  the  day  of  grace — prayer  is  of 
no  use.  Now  for  your  good  I  warn  you  not  to  do  as  I 
have  done."  Sighs  and  groans,  together  with  a  profusion 
of  tears,  evinced  the  indescribable  agony  of  the  spectators. 
But  it  was  too  much  for  her  affectionate  aunt,  who  had  had 
the  care  of  her  education  from  her  youth,  to  believe  her 
in  her  right,  mind,  and  intimated  to  a  friend,  she  thought 
her  to  be  light  headed.  This  Mrs.  A.  readily  denied,  and 
assured  them  she  had  her  reason  perfectly  clear,  and 
added,  "  I  suppose  some  would  not  tell  where  they  were 
going,  if  in  my  case  ;  but  I  tell  you  that  you  may  know 
where  I  am,  and  if  you  don't  want  ray  company  there,  you 
must  live  better  lives !  don't  let  PRIDE  ruin  you,  as  it  has 
me  !  Now,  since  I  must  go  to  hell,  I  don't  care  how  soon. 
I  have  been  a  great  sinner,"  and  fixing  her  eyes  on  Mr, 
A.  said,  "  I  ask  your  forgiveness— I  ask  all  your  forgive- 
ness— I  must  go  !  I  must  go  to  hell !"  Nearly  exhausted, 
she  lay  silent  a  few  moments,  then  with  a  tone  of  voice 


16 

dreadfully  expressive,  and  despair  emanating  from  her  dis- 
torted countenance,  she  cried  out,  "  Oh  !  DEVILS  !  must 
I  go  to  bum  in  everlasting  torment !  Oh  Jesus!  Jesus' 
Jesus !"  I  sat  on  one  side,  and  Mr.  A.  on  the  other,  sup 
porting  her  in  the  last  struggles  of  mortality.  Her  strength 
appeared  gone,  and  we  thought  her  dying  agonies  might 
be  past:  when  on  a  sudden,  she  started  with  a  ghastly 
stare  towards  the  front  windows — nearly  turned  herself  to 
the  other  side  of  the  bed — flung  her  arms  around  the  neck 
of  Mr.  A.  crying  out,  "  The  DEVIL  is  coming  !  keep  him 
off!  keep  him  oif !  pray  !  pray  !  pray  !  don't  let  him  come  ! 
don't  let  him  come  !"  Then  she  sank  down  and  expired  ! 

IIYMX. 
THE  season  of  youth  is  soon  past, 

It  fades  as  a  flower  of  the  field ; 
Now  then  is  the  time  to  make  haste 

Your  hearts  up  to  Jesus  to  yield. 
Redeem'd  by  the  price  of  his  blood, 

His  service  by  grace  is  design'd, 
As  soon  as  you  choose  it  for  good, 

The  joy  and  delight  of  the  mind. 
What  fears  and  what  sighs  will  it  cost, 

To  follow  the  world  and  its  charms ; 
When  all  its  gay  pleasures  are  lost, 

And  nothing  is  reaped  but  harms  ! 
With  promises  fair  it  beguiles, 

Which  daggers  unmerciful  sheathe 
To  stab  us  that  moment  its  smiles 

Have  lured  to  the  chambers  of  death. 
Expect  not  the  time  of  old  age 

The  cause  of  religion  t'  espouse  ; 
When  sumrnon'd  from  earth's  latest  stage 

No  motives  to  virtue  can  rouse ; 
Prevent  then  that  sorrowful  eve 

Where  courage  and  strength  are  no  more : 
Nor  hope  your  sad  loss  to  retrieve 

When  cast  on  life's  farthermost  shore. 


PUBLISHED  B7  N.  BANGS  AKD  J.  EMORT, 

£oi.theTiact  Society  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  at  the 
Conference  Office,  14  Crosbystrcer. 

,  A.  Hovt,  Printer; 

75 


NO.  76 


THE  SUBSTANCE  OF 

LESLIE'S  METHOD  WITH  DEISTS; 

AND 

TRUTH  OF  CHRISTIANITY  DEMONSTRATED. 

DEAR  SIR — You  are  desirous,  you  inform  me,  to  receive 
from  me  some  one  topic  of  reason,  which  shall  demon- 
strate the  truth  of  the  Christian  religion,  and  at  the  same 
time  distinguish  it  from  the  impostures  of  Mohammed, 
and  the  heathen  deities:  that  our  deists  may  be  brought 
to  this  test,  and  be  obliged  either  to  renounce  'heir  reason 
and  the  common  reason  of  mankind,  or  to  admit  the  clear 
proof,  from  reason,  of  the  revelation  of  Christ;  which  must 
be  such  a  proof  as  no  impostor  can  pretend  to,  otherwise 
it  will  not  prove  Christianity  not  to  be  an  imposture.  And 
you  cannot  but  imagine,  you  add,  that  there  must  be  such 
a  proof,  because  every  truth  is  in  itself  one:  and  therefore 
one  reason  for  it,  if  it  be  a  true  reason,  must  be  sufficient ; 
and,  if  sufficient,  better  than  many :  because  multiplicity 
creates  confusion,  especially  in  weak  judgments. 

Sir,  you  have  imposed  a  hard  task  upon  me :  I  wish  I 
could  perform  it.  For,  though  every  truth  be  one,  yet  our 
sight  is  so  feeble,  that  we  cannot  always  come  to  it  directly, 
but  by  many  inferences  and  layings  of  things  together. 
But,  I  think,  that  in  the  case  before  us,  there  is  such  a 
proof  as  you  desire,  and  I  will  set  it  down  as  shortly  and 
as  plainly  as  I  can. 


I  suppose,^hen,  that  the  truth  of  the  Christian  doctrines 
will  be  sufficiently  evinced,  if  the  matters  of  fact  recorded 
of  Christ  in  the  gospels  are  proved  to  be  true  ;  for  his 
miracles,  if  true,  established  the  truth  of  what  he  delivered. 
The  same  may  be  said  with  regard  to  Moses.  If  he  led 
the  children  of  Israel  through  the  Red  sea,  and  did  such 
other  wonderful  things  as  are  recorded  of  him  in  the  book 
of  Exodus,  it  must  necessarily  follow  that  he  was  sent  by 
God  :  these  being  the  strongest  evidences  we  can  require, 
and  which  every  deist  will  confess  he  would  admit,  if  he 
himself  had  witnessed  their  performance.  So  that  the 
stress  of  this  cause  will  depend  upon  the  proof  of  these 
matters  of  fact. 

.With  a  view,  therefore,  to  this  proof,  I  shall  proceed, 

I.  To  lay  down  such  marks,  as  to  the  truth  of  matters 
of  fact  in  general,  that,  where  they  all  meet,  such  matters 
of  fact  cannot  be  false :  and, 

II.  To  show  that  they  all  do  meet  in  the  matters  of 
fact  of  Moses,  and  of  Christ ;  and  do  not  meet  in  those 
reported  of  Mohammed,  and  of  the  heathen  deities,  nor 
can  possibly  meet  in  any  imposture  whatsoever : 

I.  The  marks  are  these  : 

1.  That  the  fact  be  such  as  men's  outward  senses  can 
.judge  of; 

2.  That  it  be  performed  publicly,  in  the  presence  of 
witnesses ; 

3.  That  there  be  public  monuments  and  actions  kept  up 
in  memory  of  it ;  and, 

4.  That  such  monuments  and  actions  shall  be  establish- 
ed, and  commence,  at  the  time  of  the  fact. 

The  two  first  of  these  marks  make  it  impossible  for  any 
false  fact  to  be  imposed  upon  men  at  the  time  when  it  was 
.said  to  be  done,  because  every  man's  senses  would  con- 
tradict it.  For  example  :  Suppose  I  should  pretend  that, 
yesterday,  I  divided  the  Thames,  in  the  presence  of  all 
the  people  of  London,  and  led  the  whole  city  over  to 
Southwark  on  dry  land,  the  waters  standing  like  walls  on 
each  side  : — it  would  be  morally  impossible  for  me  to  con- 
vince the  people  of  London  that  this  was  true  ;  when  every 
man,  woman,  and  child,  could  contradict  me,  and  affirm 
that  they  had  not  seen  the  Thames  so  divided,  nor  been 
led  over  "to  Southwark  on  dry  land.  I  take  it  then  for 
granted,  (and  I  apprehend  with  the  allowance  of  all  the 


deists  in  the  world,)  that  no  such  imposition  could  be  put 
upon  mankind  at  the  time  when  such  matter  of  fact  was 
said  to  be  done. 

"  But,"  it  may  he  urged,  "  the  fact  might  be  invented, 
when  the  men  of  that  generation  in  which  it  was  said  to 
be  done,  were  all  past  and  gone ;  and  fhe  credulity  of 
after  ages  might  be  induced  to  believe  that  things  had 
been  performed  in  earlier  times,  which  had  not !" 

From  this,  the  two  latter  marks  secure  us,  as  much  as 
the  two  first,  in  the  former  case.  For  whenever  such  a  fact 
was  invented,  if  it  were  stated  that  not  only  public  monu- 
ments of  it  remained,  but  likewise  that  public  actions  or 
observances  had  been  kept  up  in  memory  of  it  ever  since, 
the  deceit  must  be  detected  by  no  such  monuments  ap- 
pearing, and  by  the.experience  of  every  man,  woman,  and 
child,  who  must  know  that  no  such  actions  or  observances 
had  ever  taken  place.  For  example  :  Suppose  I  should 
now  fabricate  a  story  of  something  done  a  thousand  years 
ago  I  might  perhaps  get  a  ,fcw  persons  to  believe  me  ;  but 
if  I  were  farther  to  add,  that  from  that  day  to  this,  every 
man,  at  the  age  of  twelve  years,  had  a  joint  of  his  little 
finger  cut  off  in  memory  of  it.  and  that  of  course  every 
man  then  Jiving  actually  wanted  a  joint  of  that  finger, 
and  vouched  this  institution  in  confirmation  of  its  truth : 
it  would  be  morally  impossible  for  me  to  gain  credit  in 
such  a  case,  because  every  man  then  living  would  con- 
tradict me,  as  to  the  circumstance  of  cutting  off  a  joint  of 
the  finger  ;  and  that  being  an  essential  part  of  my  ori- 
ginal matter  of  fact,  must  prove  the  whole  to  be  false. 

II.  Let  us  now  come  to  the  second  point,  and  show  that 
all  these  marks  do  meet  in  the  matters  of  fact  of  Moses, 
and  of  Christ ;  and  do  not  meet  in  those  reported  of  Mo- 
hammed, and  of  the  heathen  deities,  nor  can  possibly  meet. 
in  any  imposture  whatsoever. 

As  to  Moses,  he,  I  take  it  for  granted,  could  not  have 
persuaded  six  hundred  thousand  men,  that  he  had  brought 
them  out  of  Egypt  by  the  Red  sea,  fed  them  forty  years  with 
miraculous  manna,  &c,  if  it  had  not  been  true :  because 
the  senses  of  every  man  who  was  then  alive  would  have 
contradicted  him.  So  that  here  are  the  two  first  marks. 

For  t^e  same  reason,  it  would  have  been  equally  impos- 
sible lor  him  to  have  made  them  receive  his  five  books  as 
true,  which  related  all  these  things  as  done  before  their 

76 


eyes,  if  they  had  not  been  so  done.  Observe  how  posi- 
tively he  speaks  to  them  :  "  And  know  you  this  day,  for  I 
speak  not  with  your  children,  which  have  not  known,  and 
which  have  not  seen  the  chastisement  of  the  Lord  your 
God,  his  greatness,  his  mighty  hand,  and  his  stretched 
out  arm,  and  his  miracles ; — but  your  eyes  have  seen  all 
the  great  acts  of  the  Lord  which  he  did,"  Deut.  xi,  2-7. 
Hence  we  must  admit  it  to  be  impossible  that  these  books, 
if  written  by  Moses  in  support  of  an  imposture,  could  have 
been  put  upon  the  people  who  were  alive  at  the  time  when 
such  things  were  said  to  be  done. 

"  But  they  might  have  been  written,"  it  may  be  urged, 
•'  in  some  age  after  Moses,  and  published  as  his !" 

"  To  this  I  reply,  that,  if  it  were  so,  it  was  impossible 
they  should  have  been  received  as  such;  because  they 
speak  of  themselves  as  delivered  by  Moses,  and  kept  in 
the  ark  from  his  time,  Deut.  xxxi,  24-26,  and  state  that  a 
copy  of  them  was  likewise  deposited  in  the  hands  of  the 
king,  "  that  he  might  learn  to  fear  the  Lord  his  God,  to 
keep  all  the  words  of  this  law  and  these  statutes,  to  do 
them,"  Deut.  xvii,  19.  Here  these  books  expressly  repre- 
sent themselves  as  being  not  only  the  civil  history,  but 
also  the  established  municipal  law,  of  the  Jews,  binding 
the  king  as  well  as  the  people.  In  whatever  age,  there- 
fore, after  Moses,  they  might  have  been  forged,  it  was 
impossible  they  should  have  gained  any  credit ;  because 
they  could  not  then  have  been  found  either  in  the  ark,  or 
with  the  king,  or  any  where  else :  and  when  they  were 
first  published,  every  body  must  know  that  they  had  never 
heard  of  them  before. 

And  they  could  still  less  receive  them  as  their  book  of 
statutes,  and  the  standing  law  of  the  land,  by  which  they 
had  all  along  been  governed.  Could  any  man,  at  this  day, 
invent  a  set  of  acts  of  parliament  for  England,  and  make 
it  pass  upon  the  nation,  as  the  only  book  of  statutes  which 
they  had  ever  known?  As  impossible  was  it  for  these 
books,  if  written  in  any  age  after  Moses,  to  have  been 
received  for  what  they  declare  themselves  to  be,  that  is, 
the  municipal  law  of  the  Jews ;  and  for  any  man  to  have 
persuaded  that  people,  that  they  had  owned  them  as  then- 
code  of  statutes  from  the  time  of  Moses,  that  is,  before 
they  had  ever  heard  of  them !  Nay,  more  :  they  must  in- 
stantly have  forgotten  their  former  laws,  if  they  could 


receive  these  books  as  such ;  and  as  such  only  could  they 
receive  them,  because  such  they  vouched  themselves  to  be. 
Let  me  ask  the  deists  but  one  short  question :  "  Was  a 
book  of  sham  laws  ever  palmed  upon  any  nation,  since 
the  world  began?"  If  not,  with  what  face  can  they  say 
this  of  the  law  books  of  the  Jews  ?  Why  will  they  affirm 
that  of  them,  which  they  admit  never  to  have  happened 
in  any  other  instance  ? 

But  they  must  be  still  more  unreasonable.  For  the 
books  of  Moses  have  an  ampler  demonstration  of  their 
truth,  than  even  other  law  books  have ;  as  they  n'  t  only 
contaii\the  laws  themselves,  but  give  an  historical  account 
of  their  institution,  and  regular  fulfilment:  of  the  passover, 
for  instance,  in  memory  of  their  supernatural  protection, 
upon  the  slaying  of  the  first-born  of  Egypt :  the  dedica- 
tion of  the  first-born  of  Israel;  both  of  man  and  beast  ; 
the  preservation  of  Aaron's  rod  which  budded,  of  the  pot 
of  manna,  and  of  the  brazen  serpent,  which  remained  till 
the  days  of  Hezrckiah,  2  Kings  xviii,  4,  &,c.  And,  be- 
sides these  memorials  of  particular  occurrences,  there 
were  other  solemn  observances,  in  general  memory  of 
their  deliverance  out  of  Egypt,  &c,  as  their  annual  expia- 
tions, their  new  moons,  their  sabbaths,  and  their  ordinary 
sacrifices :  so '  that  there  were  yearly,  monthly,  weekly, 
and  daily  recognitions  of  these  things.  The  same  books 
likewise  farther  inform^  us,  that  the  tribe  of  Levi  were 
appointed  aad  consecrated  by  God  as  his  ministers,  by 
whom  alone  these  institutions  were  to  be  celebrated ;  that 
it  was  death  for  any  others  to  approach  the  altar ;  that 
their  high  priest  wore  a  brilliant  mitre  and  magnificent 
robes,  with  the  miraculous  Trim  and  Thummim  in  his 
breast  plate ;  that  at  his  word  all  the  people  were  to  go 
out,  and  to  come  in ;  that  these  Levites  were  also  their 
judges,  even  in  all  civil  causes,  &c. 

Hence,  too,  therefore,  in  whatever  age  after  Moses  they 
might  have  been  forged,  it  was  impossible  they  should 
have  gained  any  credit :  unless  indeed  the  fabricators  could 
have  made  the  whole  nation  believe,  in  spite  of  their  inva- 
riable experience  to  the  contrary,  that  they  had  received 
these  books  long  before,  from  thrir  fatiiers ;  had  been 
taught  them  when  they  were  children,  and  had  taught 
them  to  their  own  children ;  that  they  had  been  circiun 
cised  themselves,  had  circumcised  their  families,  and  uni 


6 

ibrmly  observed  their  whole  minute  detail  of  sacrifices  and 
ceremonies ;  that  they  had  never  eaten  any  swine's  flesh 
or  other  prohibited  meats-;  that  they  had  a  splendid  taber- 
nacle, with  a  regular  priesthood  to  administer  in  it,  con- 
fined to  one  particular  tribe,  and  a  superintendent  high 
priest,  wliose  death  alone  could  deliver  those  that  had  fled 
to  the  cities  of  refuge  ;  that  these  priests  were  their  ordi- 
nary judges,  even  in  civil  matters,  &c.  But  this  would 
surely  have  been  impossible,  ff  none  of  these  things  had 
been  practised ;  and  it  would  consequently  have  been  im- 
possible to  circulate,  as  true,  a  set  of  books  w Inch-affirmed 
that  they  had  practised  them,  and  upon  that  practice  rested 
their  own  pretensions  to  acceptance.  So  that  here  are  the 
two  latter  marks. 

"  But,"  to  advance  to  the  utmost  degree  of  supposition, 
it  may  be  urged,  "  these  things  might  have  been  practised 
prior  to  this  alleged  forgery ;  and  those  books  only  deceived 
the  nation,  by  making  them  believe  that  they  were  practised 
in  memory  of  such  and  such  occurrences  as  were  then  in- 
vented!" 

'  In  this  hypothesis,  however  groundless,  the  same  im- 
possibilities press  upon  our  notice  as  before.  For  it  im- 
plies that  the  Jews  had  previously  kept  these  observances 
in  memory  of  nothing,  or  without  knowing  why  they  kept 
them;  whereas,  in  all  their  particulars,  they  strikingly 
express  their  original :  as  the  passover,  instituted  in 
memory  of  God's  passing  over  the  children  of  the  Israel 
ites,  when  he  slew  the  first-born  of  Egypt,  &c. 

Let  us  admit,  however  contrary  both  to  probability  and 
to  matter  of  fact,  that  they  did  not  know  why  they  kept 
these  observances ;  yet,  was  it  possible  to  persuade  them 
that  they  were  kept  in  memory  of  something  which  they 
had  never  heard  of  before  1  For  example :  Suppose  I 
should  now  forge  some  romantic  story  of  strange  things 
done  a  long  while  ago ;  and,  in  confirmation  of  this, 
should  ^endeavour  to  convince  the  Christian  world  that 
they  had  regularly,  from  that  period  to  this,  kept  holy  the 
first  day  of  the  week,  in  memory  of  such  or  such  a  man : 
a  Cesar,  or  a  Mohammed :  and  had  all  been  baptized  in  his 
name,  and  sworn  by  it  upon  the  very  book  which  I  had 
then  fabricated,  and  which  of  course  they  had  never  seen 
before  in  their  public  courts  of  judicature  ;  that  this  book 
likewise  contained  their  law,  civil  and  ecclesiastical. 


which  they  had  ever  since  his  time  acknowledged,  and  no 
other : — I  ask  any  deist,  whether  he  thinks  it  possible 
that  such  a  cheat  could  be  received  as  the  gospel  of  Chris- 
tians, or  not?  The  same  reason  holds  with  regard  to  the 
books  of  Moses,  and  must  hold  with  regard  to  every  book, 
which  contains  matters  of  fact  accompanied  by  the  above 
mentioned  four  marks.  For  these  marks,  together,  secure 
mankind  from  imposition,  with  regard  to  any  false  fact,  as 
well  in- after  ages,  as  at  the  time  when  it  was  said  to  be  done. 

Let  me  produce,  as  another  and  a  familiar  illustration, 
the  fitonehenge  of  Salisbury  Plain.  Almost  every  body 
has  seen,  or  heard  of  it ;  and  yet  no  body  knows  by  whom, 
or  in  memory  of  what  it  was  set  up. 

Now  suppose  I  should  write  a  book  to  morrow,  and 
state  in  it  that  these  huge  stones  were  erected  by  a  Cesar 
or  a  Mohammed,  in  memory  of  such  and  such  of  their 
actions ;  and  should  farther  add,  that  this  book  was  written 
at  the  time  when  those  actions  were  performed,  and  by 
the  doers  themselves,  or  by  eye  witnesses ;  and  had  been 
constantly  received  as  true,  and  quoted  by  authors  of  the 
greatest  credit  in  regular  succession  ever  since;  that  it 
was  well  known  in  England,  and  even  enjoined  by  act  oi' 
parliament  to  be  taught  our  children,  and  that  we  accord- 
ingly did  teach  it  our  children,  and  had  been  taught  it 
ourselves  when  we  were  children : — would  this,  I  demand 
of  any  deist,  pass  current  in  England  1  Or,  rather,  should 
not  I,  or  any  other  person,  who  might  insist  upon  its  re- 
ception, instead  of  being  believed,  be  considered  insane  ? 

Let  us  compare,  then,  this  rude  structure  with  the 
Stonehenge,  as  I  may  call  it,  or  "  twelve  stones"  set  up 
at  Gilgal,  Joshua  iv,  6.  It  is  there  said,  that  the  reason 
why  they  were  set  up  was,  that  when  the  children  of  the 
Jews,  in  after  ages,  should  ask  their  meaning,  it  should  be 
told  them,  chap,  iv,  20-22.  And  the  thing,  in  memory  of 
which  theyVere  set  up,  the  passage  over  Jordan,  was  such 
as  could  not  possibly  have  been  imposed  upon  that  people, 
at  the  time  when  it  was  said  to  be  done :  it  was  not  less 
miraculous,  and  from  the  previous  notice,  preparations, 
and  other  striking  circumstances  of  its  performance,  chap, 
lii,  5,  15,  still  more  unassailable  by  the  petty  cavils  of  infi- 
del sophistry,  than  their  passage  through  the  Red  sea. 

Now,  to  form  our  argument,  let  us  suppose  that  there 
never  was  any  such  thing  as  that  passage  over^  Jordan ; 


that  these  stones  at  Gilgal  had  been  set  up  on  some  un- 
known occasion;  and  that  some  designing  man,  in  au 
after  age,  invented  this  book  of  Joshua,  affirmed  that  it 
was  written  at  the  time  of  that  imaginary  event  by  Joshua 
himself,  and  adduced  this  pile  of  stones  as  a  testimony  of 
its  truth  : — would  not  every  body  say  to  him,  "  We  know 
this  pile  very  well,  but  we  never 'before  heard  of  this  rea- 
son lor  it,  nor  of  this  book  of  Joshua.  Where  has  it  lain 
concealed  all  this  while?  And  where  and  how  came  you, 
after  so  long  a  period,  to  find  it  1  Be&ides,  it  informs  us, 
that  this  passage  over  Jordan  was  solemnly  directed  to  bo 
taught  our  children,  from  age  to  age ;  and,  to  that  end, 
that  they  were  always  to  be  instructed  in  the  meaning  of 
this  particular  monument :  but  we  were  never  taught  it 
ourselves,  when  we  were  children,  nor  did  we  ever  teach 
it  to  our  children.  And  it  is  in  the  highest  degree  impro- 
bable that  such  an  emphatic  ordinance  should  have  been 
forgotten,  during  the  continuance  of  so  remarkable  a  pile 
of  stones,  set  up  expressly  for  the  purpose  of  preserving 
its  remembrance." 

If,  then,  for  these  reasons,  no  such  fabrication  could  be 
put  upon  us,  as  to  the  stones  in  Salisbury  plain ;  how  much 
iess  could  it  succeed,  as  to  the  stonage  at  Gilgal?  If, 
where  we  are  ignorant  of  the  true  origin  of  a  mere  naked 
monument,  such  a  sham  origin  cannot  be  imposed,  how 
much  less  practicable  would  it  be  to  impose  upon  us  in 
actions  and  observances,  which  we  celebrate  in  memory 
of  what  we  actually  know ;  to  make  us  forget  what  we 
have  regularly  commemorated ;  and  to  persuade  us  that 
we  have  constantly  kept  such  and  such  institutions,  with 
reference  to  something  which  we  never  heard  of  before ! 
That  is,  that  we  knew  something  before  we  knew  it ! 
And,  if  we  find  it  thus  impossible  to  practise  deceit,  even 
in  cases  which  have  not  the  above  four  marks,  how  much 
more  impossible  must  it  be  that  any  deceit  should  be  prac- 
tised in  cases  in  which  all  these  four  marks  meet. 

In  the  matters  of  fact  of  Christ  likewise,  as  well  as  in 
those  of  Moses,  these  four  marks  are  to  be  found.  The 
reasoning,  indeed,  which  has  been  already  advanced  with 
respect  to  the  Old  Testament,  is  generally  applicable  to 
the  New.  The  miracles  of  Christ,  like  those  of  Moses, 
were  such  as  men's  ou i ward  senses  could  judge  of;  arid 
were  performed  publicly,  in  the  presence  of  those  to  whom 


9 

the  history  of  them,  contained  in  the  gospel,  was  addressed. 
And  it  is  related,  that  "  about  three  thousand"  at  one  time, 
Acts  ii,  41,  and  about  "  five  thousand"  at  another,  iv,  4, 
were  converted  in  consequence  of  what  they  themselves 
saw  and  heard,  in  matters  where  it  was  impossible  that 
they  should  have  been  deceived.  He.e,  therefore,  were 
the  two  first  marks. 

And,  with  regard  to  the  two  latter,  baptism  and  the 
Lord's  supper  were  instituted  as  memorials  of  certain 
things,  not  in  after  ages,  but, at  the  time  when  these  things 
were  said  to  be  done ;  and  have  been  strictly  observed, 
from  that  time  to  this,  without  interruption.  Christ  himself 
also  ordained  apostles,  &c,  to  preach  and  administer  his 
ordinances,  and  to  govern  his  church  "  even  unto  the  end 
of  the  world."  Now  the  Christian  ministry  is  as  notorious 
a  matter  of  fact  among  us  as  the  setting  apart  of  the  tribe 
of  Levi  was  among  the  Jews ;  and  as  the  era  and  object  of 
their  appointment  are  part  of  the  gospel  narrative,  if  that 
narrative  had  been  a  fiction  of  some  subsequent  age,  at  the 
time  of  its  fabrication  no  such  order  of  men  could  have 
been  found,  which  would  have  effectually  given  the  lie  to 
the  \Wiole  story.  And  the  truth  of  the  matters  of  fact  of 
Christ,  being  no  otherwise  asserted  than  as  there  were  at 
the  time  (whenever  the  deist  will  suppose  the  gospel  to 
have  been  fabricated)  public  ordinances  and  a  public 
ministry  of  his  institution  to  dispense  them,  and  it  being 
impossible,  upon  this  hypothesis,  that  there  could  be  any 
such  things  then  in  existence,  we  must  admit  it  to  be 
equally  impossible  that  the  forgery  should  have  been  suc- 
cessful. Hence,  it  was  as  impossible  to  deceive  mankind, 
in  respect  to  these  matters  of  fact,  by  inventing  them  in 
after  ages,  as  at  the  time  when  they  were  said  to  be  done. 

The  matters  of  fact,  reported  of  Mohammed  and  of  the 
heathen  deities,  do  all  want  some  of  these  four  marks,  by 
which  the  certainty  of  facts  is  established.  Mohammed 
himself,  as  he  tells  us  in  his  Koran,  (vi,  &c,)  pretended  to 
no  miracles ;  and  those  which  are  commonly  related  of 
him  pass,  even  among  his  followers,  for  ridiculous  legends, 
and  as  such  are  rejected  by  their  scholars  and  philosophers. 
They  have  not  either  of  the  two  first  marks ;  for  his-  con- 
verse with  the  moon,  his  night  journey  from  Mecca  to 
Jerusalem,  and  thence  to  heaven,  &c,  were  not  performed 
before  any  witnesses  nor  was  the  tour  indeed  of  a  nature 


10 

to  admit  human  attestation :  and  to  the  two  latter  they 
do  not  even  affect  to  advance  any  claim. 

The  same  may  be  affirmed,  with  little  variation,  of  the 
stories  of  the  heathen  deities  :  of  Mercury's  stealing  sheep, 
Jupiter's  transforming  himself  into  a  bull,  &c,  besides  the 
absurdity  of  such  degrading  and  profligate  adventures. 
And  accordingly  we  find  that  the  more  enlightened  pa- 
gans themselves  considered  them  as  fables  involving  a 
mystical  meaning,  of  which  several  of  their  writers  have 
endeavoured  to  give  us  the  explication.  It  is  true,  these 
gods  had  their  priests,  their  feasts,  their  games,  and  other 
public  ceremonies ;  but  all  these  want  the  fourth  mark, 
of  commencing  at  the  time  when  the  things  which  they 
commemorate  were  said  to  have  been  done.  Hence  they 
cannot  secure  mankind,  in  subsequent  ages,  from  impos- 
ture, as  they  furnish  no  internal  means  of  detection  at  the 
period  of  the  forgery.  The  Bicchanalia,  for  example, 
and  other  heathen  festivals,  were  established  long  after 
the  events  to  which  they  refer ;  and  the  priests  of  Juno, 
Mars,  &-c.  were  not  ordained  by  those  imaginary  deities, 
but  appointed  by  others  in  some  after  age,  and  are  there- 
fore no  evidence  to  the  truth  of  their  preternatural  achieve- 
ments. 

To  apply  what  has  been  said  : 

We  may  challenge  all  the  deists  in  the  world  to  show 
any  fabulous  action  accompanied  by  these  four  marks. 
The  thing  is  impossible.  The  histories  of  the  Old  and 
New  Testameijt  never  could  have  been  received,  if  they 
had  not  been  true ;  because  the  priesthoods  of  Levi  and 
of  Christ,  the  observance  of  the  sabbath,  the  passover, 
and  circumcision,  and  the  ordinances  of  baptism  and  the 
Lord's  supper,  &c,  are  there  represented  as  descending 
uninterruptedly  from  the  times  of  their  respective  institu- 
tion. And  it  would  have  been  as  impossible  to  persuade 
men  in  after  ages  that  they  had  been  circumcised  or  bap- 
tized, and  celebrated  passovers,  sabbaths,  and  other  ordi- 
nances, under  the  ministration  of  a  certain  order  of  priests, 
if  they  had  done  none  of  those  things,  as  to  make  them 
believe  at  the  time,  without  any  real  foundation,  that  they 
had  gone  through  seas  on  dry  land,  seen  the  dead  raised, 
&/c.  But  without  such  a  persuasion,  it  was  impossible 
that  either  the  law  or  the  gospel  could  have  been  received. 


11 

And  the  truth  of  the  matters  of  fact  of  each  being  uo 
otherwise  asserted  than  as  such  public  ceremonies  had 
been  previously  practised,  their  certainty  is  established 
upon  the  FULL  CONVICTION  OF  THE  SENSES  OF  MANKIND. 

I  do  not  say  that  every  thing  which  wants  these  four 
marks  is  false ;  but  that  every  thing  which  has  them  all, 
must  be  true. 

I  can  have  no  doubt  that  there  was  such  a  man  as  Julius 
Cesar,  that  he  conquered  at  Pharsalia,  and  was  killed  in 
the  senate  house,  though  neither  his  actions  nor  his  assas- 
sination be  commemorated  by  any  public  observances.  But 
this  shows  that  the  matters  of  fact  of  Moses  and  of  Christ 
have  come  down  to  us  better  certified  than  any  other  what- 
soever. And  yet  our  deists,  who  would  consider  any  one 
as  hopelessly  irrational,  that  should  offer  to  deny  the  exist- 
ence of  Cesar,  value  themselves  as  the  Only  men  of  pro-' 
found  sense  and  judgment,  for  ridiculing  the  histories  of 
Moses  and  of  Christ,  though  guarded  by  infallible  marks, 
which  that  of  Cesar  wants. 

Besides,  the  nature  of  the  subject  would  of  itself  lead  to 
a  more  minute  examination  of  the  one  than  of  the  other  : 
for  of  what  consequence  is  it  to  me,  or  to  the  world, 
whether  there  ever  was  such  a  man  as  Cesar;  whether  he 
conquered  at  Pharsalia,  and  was  killed  in  the  senate  house, 
or  not  ?  But  our  eternal  welfare  is  concerned  in  the  U'uth 
of  what  is  recorded  in  the  Scriptures ;  whence  they  would 
naturally  be  more  narrowly  scrutinized,  when  proposed  for 
acceptance. 

How  unreasonable,  then,  is  it  to  reject  matters  of  faci. 
so  important,  so  sifted,  and  so  attested;  and  yet  to  think  it 
absurd,  even  to  madness,  to  deny  other  matters  or  fact — 
which  have  not  the  thousandth  part  of  their  evidence — 
have  had  comparatively  little  investigation — and  are  of  n» 
consequence  at  all ! 


12 


The  Truth  of  Christianity  Demonstrated. 

To  the  preceding  four  marks,  which  are  common  to  the 
matters  of  fact  of  Moses  and  of  Christ,  I  now  proceed  to 
subjoin  four  additional  marks ;  the  three  last  of  which,  no 
matter  of  fact,  how  true  soever,  either  has  had,  or  can 
have,  except  that  of  Christ. 

This  will  obviously  appear,  if  it  be  considered, 

5.  That  the  book,  which  relates  the  facts,  contains  like- 
wise the  laws  of  the  people  to  whom  it  belongs ; 

6.  That  Christ  was  previously  announced,  for  that  very 
period,  by  a  long  train  of  prophecies  ;  and, 

7.  Still  more  peculiarly  prefigured  by  types,  both  of  a 
circumstantial  and   personal  nature,   from   the   earliest 
ages ;  and, 

8.  That  the  facts  of  Christianity  are  such,  as  to  make 
it  impossible  for  either  their  relaters  or  hearers  to  believe 
them,  if  false,  without  supposing  a  universal  deception  of 
the  senses  of  mankind. 

The  fifth  mark,  which  has  been  subordinately  discuss- 
ed in  the  former  part  of  this  tract,  in  such  a  manner  as 
to  supersede  the  necessity  of  dwelling  upon  it  in  this,  ren- 
ders it  impossible  for  any  one  to  have  imposed  such  a  book 
upon  any  people.  For  example  :  suppose  I  should  forge  a 
code  of  laws  for  Great  Britain,  and  publish  it  next  term ; 
could  I  hope  to  persuade  the  judges,  lawyers,  and  people, 
that  this  was  their  genuine  statute  book,  by  which  all  their 
causes  had  been  determined  in  the  public  courts  for  so 
many  centuries  past!  Before  they  could  be  brought  to 
this,  they  must  totally  forget  their  established  laws,  which 
they  had  so  laboriously  committed  to  memory,  and  so 
familiarly  quoted  in  every  day's  practice,  and  believe  that 
this  new  book,  which  they  had  never  seen  before,  was 
that  old  book,  which  had  been  pleaded  so  long  in  West- 
minster Hall,  which  has  been  so  often  printed,  and  of 
which  the  originals  are  now  so  carefully  preserved  in  the 
tower. 

This  applies  strongly  to  the  books  of  Mopes,  in  which, 
not  only  the  history  of  the  Jews,  but  likewise  their  whole 
law,  secular  and  ecclesiastical,  was  contained.  And  though, 
from  the  early  extension  and  destined  universality  of  the 
Christian  system,  it  could  not,  without  unnecessary  confu- 
sion, furnish  a  uniform  civil  code  to  all  its  various  followers, 

76 


13 

Who  were  already  under  the  government  of  laws  in  some 
degree  adapted  to  their  respective  climates  and  characters, 
yet  was  it  intended  as  the  spiritual  guide  of  the  new 
church.  And  in  this  respect  this  mark  is  still  stronger 
with  regard  to  the  gospel,  than  even  to  the  books  of 
Moses;  inasmuch  as  it  is  easier  (however  hard)  to  imagine 
the  substitution  of  an  entire  statute  book  in  one  particular 
nation,  than  that  all  the  nations  of  Christendom  should  have 
unanimously  conspired  in  the  forgery.  But  without  such 
a  conspiracy,  such  a  forgery  could  never  have  succeeded, 
as  the  gospel  universally  formed  a  regular  part  of  their 
daily  public  offices. 

But  I  hasten  to  the  sixth  mark,  namely,  prophecy. 

The  great  fact  of  Christ's  coming  was  previously  an 
nounced  to  the  Jews,  in  the  Old  Testament,  "  by  all  the 
holy  prophets  which  have  been  since  the  world  began," 
Luke  i,  70. 

The  first  promise  upon  the  subject  was  made  to  Adam, 
immediately  after  the  fall,  Gen.  iii,  15.  Compare  Col.  ii,  15, 
and  Heb.  ii,  14. 

He  was  again  repeatedly  promised  to  Abraham,  Gen. 
xii,  3,  xviii,  18,  and  xxii,  18 ;  Gal.  iii,  16 ;  to  Isaac,  Gen. 
xxvi,  4,  and  to  Jacob,  Gen.  xxviii,  14. 

Jacob  expressly  prophesied  of  him,  under  the  appellation 
of  "  Shiloh,"  or  Him  that  was  to  be  sent,  Gen.  xlix,  10. 
Balaam  also,  with  the  vciice  of  inspiration,  pronounced  him 
"  the  Star  of  Jacob,  and  the  sceptre  of  Israel,"  Numb, 
xxiv,  17.  Moses  spake  of  him,  as  One  "  greater  than 
himself,"  Deut.  xviii,  15,  18,  19;  Acts  iii,  22.  And 
Daniel  hailed  his  arrival,  under  the  name  of  "  Messiah 
the  Prince,"  chap,  ix,  25. 

It  was  foretold,  that  he  should  be  born  of  a  virgin,  Isa. 
vii,  14,  in  the  city  of  Bethlehem,  Micah  v,  2,  of  the  seed 
of  Jesse,  Isa.  xi,  1,  10;  that  he  should  lead  a  life  of 
poverty  and  suffering,  Psalm  xxii,  inflicted  upon  him, 
"  not  for  himself."  Dan.  ix,  26,  but  for  the  sins  of  others, 
Isa.  liii,  and,  after  a  short  confinement  in  the  grave, 
should  rise  again,  Psalm  xvi,  10;  Acts  ii,  27,  31,  and 
xiii,  35-37 ;  that  he  "  should  sit  upon  the  throne  of 
David  for  ever,"  and  be  called  "  the  mighty  God,"  Isa, 
ix,  6,  7,  "the  Lord  our  righteousness,"  Jer.  xxxiii,  16; 
"  Immanuel,  that  is,  God  with  us,"  Isa.  vii,  14 ;  Matt, 
i,  23 ;  and  by  David  himself,  whose  son  he  was  according 
2  76 


14 

to  the  flesh,  "  Lord,"  Psalm  ex,  1,  applied  to  Christ  by 
himself.  Matt,  xxii,  44,  and  by  Peter,  Acts  ii,  34. 

The  time  of  his  incarnation  was  to  be  before  "  the 
sceptre  should  depart  from  Judah,"  Gen.  xlix,  10,  during 
the  continuance  of  the  second  temple,  Hag.  ii,  7,  9,  and 
within  seventy  weeks,  or  490  days,  that  is,  according  to 
the  constant  interpretation  of  prophecy,  490  years  from  its 
erection,  Dan.  ix,  24. 

From  these,  and  many  other  predictions,  the  coming  of 
Christ  was  at  all  times  the  general  expectation  of  the  Jews ; 
and  fully  matured,  at  the  time  of  his  actual  advent,  as  may 
be  inferred  from  the  number  of  false  messiahs  who  ap- 
peared about  that  period. 

That  he  was  likewise  the  expectation  of  the  Gentiles, 
(in  conformity  to  the  prophecies  of  Gen.  xxix,  10,  and 
Hag.  ii,  7,  where  the  terms  "  people,"  and  "  nations," 
denote  the  heathen  world,)  is  evinced  by  the  coming  of 
the  wise  men  from  the  east,  &c,  a  story,  which  would  of 
course  have  been  contradicted  !>y  some  of  the  individuals 
so  disgracefully  concerned  in  it,  if  the  fact  of  their  arrival, 
and  the  consequent  massacre  of  the  infants  in  and  about 
Bethlehem,  had  not  been  fresh  in  every  one's  memory : 
by  them,  for  instance,  who  afterwards  suborned  false  wit- 
nesses against  Christ,  and  gave  large  money  to  the  soldiers 
to  conceal,  if  possible,  the  event  of  his  resurrection ;  or 
them  who,  in  still  later  days,  every  where  zealously  "  spake 
against"  the  tenets  and  practices  of  his  rising  church. 

All  over  the  east,  indeed,  there  was  a  general  tradition, 
that  about  that  time  a  king  of  the  JEWS  would  be  born,  who 
should  govern  the  whole  earth.  This  prevailed  so  strongly 
at  Rome,  a  few  months  before  the  birth  of  Augustus,  that 
the  senate  made  a  decree,  to  expose  all  the  children  born 
that  year ;  but  the  execution  of  it  was  eluded  by  a  trick 
of  some  of  the  senators,  who,  from  the  pregnancy  of  their 
wives,  were  led  to  hope  that  they  might  be  the  fathers  of 
the  promised  prince.  Its  currency  is  also  recorded  with 
a  remarkable  identity  of  phrase,  by  the  pens  of  Suetonius 
and  Tacitus.  Now  that  in  this  there  was  no  collusion 
between  the  Chaldeans,  Romans,  and  Jews,  is  sufficiently 
proved  by  the  desperate  methods  suggested,  or  carried 
into  effect,  for  its  discomfiture.  Nor,  in  fact,  is  it  prac- 
ticable for  whole  nations  of  contemporary  (and  still  less, 
if  possible,  for  those  of  successive)  generations,  to  concert 


15 

a  story  perfectly  harmonious  in  all  its  minute  accompani- 
ments of  time,  place,  manner,  and  other  circumstances. 

In  addition  to  the  above  general  predictions  of  the 
coming,  life,  death,  and  resurrection  of  Christ,  there  are 
others  which  foretel  still  more  strikingly  several  particular 
incidents  of  the  gospel  narrative ;  instances  unparalleled 
in  the  whole  range  of  history,  and  which  could  have  been 
foreseen  by  God  alone.  They  were  certainly  not  foreseen 
by  the  human  agents  concerned  in  their  execution ;  or 
they  would  never  have  contributed  to  the  fulfilment  oi' 
prophecies  referred  even  by  themselves  to  the  Messiah, 
and  therefore  verifying  the  divine  mission  of  him  whom 
they  crucified  as  an  impostor. 

Observe,  then,  how  literally  many  of  these  predictions 
were  fulfilled.  For  example  :  read  Psa.  Ixix,  21,  "  They 
gave  me  gall  to  eat,  and  vinegar  to  drink  ;"  and  compare 
Matt,  xxvii,  34,  "  They  gave  him  vinegar  to  drink,  mingled 
with  gall."  Again,  it  is  said,  Psa.  xxii,  16-18,  "  They 
pierced  my  hands  and  my  feet.  They  part  my  garments 
among  t\  em,  and  cast  lots  upon  my  vesture  ;"*  as  if  it  had 
been  wr'.tten  after,  John  <ix,  23,  24.  It  is  predicted,  like- 

*  The  soldiers  did  not  tear  his  coat,  because  it  was  without  seam, 
woven  from  the  tup  throughout;  and  therefore  they  cast  lots  for  it. 
But  this  was  entirely  accidental.  With  the  passage  in  the  Psalms, 
as  Romans,  they  were  not  likely  to  be  acquainted.  The  same  re- 
mark applies  to  the  next  instance,  from  Zechariah. 

And  here  it  may  be  suggested,  (in  reply  to  those  who  insidiously 
magnify  "  the  power  of  chance,  the  ingenuity  of  accommodation, 
and  the  industry  of  research,"  as  chiefly  supporting  the  credit  of' 
obscure  prophecy,)  that  greater  plainness  would  have  enabled 
wicked  men,  as  tree  agents,  to  prevent  its  accomplishment,  when 
obviously  directed  against  themselves.  The  Jews  not  understand- 
ing what  Christ  meant  by  his  "  lifting  up,"  John  viii,  2«,  xii,  32, 
33,  and  not  knowing  that  he  had  foretold  his  crucifixion  to  his 
apostles,  Matt,  xx,  10,  instead  of  finally  stoning  him — thfe  death 
appointed  by  their  law,  Lev.  xxiv,  K>,  for  blasphemy,  Matt,  xxvi, 
65,  more  than  once  menaced  against  the  Saviour,  John  viii,  59, 
x,  33,  and  actually  inflicted  upon  Stephen,  Acts  vii,  58,  for  that 
offence — unconsciously  delivered  him  to  the  predicted  Roman 
cross.  Again ;  the  piercing  of  his  side  was  no  part  of  the  Roman 
sentence,  but  merely  to  ascertain  his  being  dead,  previously  to 
taking  him  down  from  the  cross ;  "  that  the  body  might  not  remain 
there  on  the  sabbath  day,"  which  commenced  that  evening,  a  few 
hours  after  the  crucifixion.  From  his  early  gri-imr  up  the  ghost, 
iiowever,  it  was  not  necessary  that  "  a  bone  of  him  should  be 
broken,"  Exod.  xii,  46  ;  Numb,  ix,  12  ;  Psa.  xxxiv,  20,  like  those 
;.f  'he  two  thieves,  his  fellow  sufferers,  John  xix,  32,  36. 

76 


16 

wise,  Zech.  xii,  10,  "  They  shall  look  upon  me  whom  they 
have  pierced ;"  and  we  are  told,  John  xix,  34,  that  "  one 
of  the  soldiers  with  a  spear  pierced  his  side." 

Compare  also  Psa.  xxii,  7,  8,  "  All  they  that  see  me 
laugh  me  to  scorn :  they  shoot  out  their  lips  and  shake 
their  heads,  saying,  He  trusted  in  God  that  he  would  deli- 
ver him ;  let  him  deliver  him  if  he  will  have  him,"  with 
Matt,  xxvii,  39,  41,  43,  "  And  they  that  passed  by  reviled 
him.  wagging  their  heads,  and  saying,  Come  down  from  the 
cross.  Likewise  also  the  chief  priests  mocking  him,  with 
the  scribes  and  elders  said,  He  trusted  in  God :  let  him 
deliver  him  now,  if  he  will  have  him ;  for  he  said,  I  am 
the  Son  of  God."  His  very  price,  and  the  mode  of  laying 
out  the  money,  previously  specified,  Zech.  ix,  13,  are 
historically  stated  by  Matthew,  in  perfect  correspondence 
with  the  prophet,  chap,  xxvii,  6,  7.  And  his  riding  into 
Jerusalem  upon  an  ass,  predicted,  Zech.  ix,  9,  and  refer- 
red by  one  of  the  most  learned  of  the  Jewish  rabbies  to 
the  Messiah,  is  recorded  by  the  same  inspired  historian, 
chap,  xxi,  9.  Lastly,  it  was  foretold  that  "  he  should 
make  his  grave  with  the  wicked,  and  with  the  rich  in  his 
death,"  Isa.  liii,  9  ;  or,  as  Dr.  Lowth  translates  the  pas- 
sage, "  his  grave  was  appointed  with  the  wicked,  but  with 
the  rich  man  was  his  tomb ;"  which  prediction  was  pre- 
cisely verified  by  the  very  improbable  incidents  of  his  being 
crucified  between  two  thieves,  Matt,  xxvii,  38,  and  after- 
wards laid  in  the  tomb  of  the  rich  man  of  Arimathea.  Ib. 
57,  60. 

Thus  do  the  prophecies  of  the  Old  Testament,  without 
variation  or  ambiguity,  refer  to  the  person  and  character 
of  Christ.  His  own  predictions  in  the  New,  demand  a  few 
brief  observations'. 

Those  relating  to  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem,  which 
specified  that  it  should  be  "  laid  even  with  the  ground," 
and  "  not  one  stone  be  left  upon  another,"  Luke  ix,  44, 
*'  before  that  generation  passed,"  Matt,  xxiv,  34,  were 
fulfilled  in  a  most  surprisingly  literal  manner,  the  very 
foundations  of  the  temple  being  ploughed  up  by  Turnus 
Rufus.  In  another  remarkable  prophecy  he  announced  the 
many  false  messiahs  that  should  come  after  him,  and  the 
ruin  in  which  their  followers  should  be  involved,  Matt, 
xxvi,  25,  26f  That  great  numbers  actually  assumed  that 
holy  character,  before  the  final  fall  of  the  city,  and  Jed  the 


17 

people  into  the  wilderness  to  their  destruction,  we  learn 
from  Josephus.  Antiq.  Jud.  xviii,  12,  xx,  6,  and  B.  J.  viii, 
31.  Nay,  such  was  their  wretched  infatuation,  that  under 
this  delusion  they  rejected  the  offers  of  Titus,  who  courted 
them  to  peace.  Id.  B.  J.  vii,  12. 

It  will  be  sufficient  barely  to  mention  his  foretelling  the 
dispersion  of  that  unhappy  nation,  and  the  triumph  of  his 
gospel  over  the  gates  of  hell,  under  every  possible  disad- 
vantage— himself  low  and  despised,  his  immediate  asso- 
ciates only  twelve,  and  those  illiterate  and  unpolished,  and 
his  adversaries  the  allied  powers,  prejudices,  habits,  inte- 
rests, and  appetites  of  mankind. 

But  the  seventh  mark  is  still  more  peculiar,  if  possible, 
to  Christ,  than  even  that  of  prophecy.  For  whatever  may 
be  weakly  pretended  with  regard  to  the  oracular  predic- 
tions of  Delphi  or  Dodona,  the  heathens  never  affected  to 
prefigure  any  future  event  by  types  or  resemblances  of  the 
fact,  consisting  of  analogies  either  in  individuals,  or  in  sen- 
sible institutions  directed  to  be  continued,  till  the  antitype 
itself  should  make  its  appearance. 

These  types,  in  the  instance  of  Christ,  were  of  a  two- 
fold nature,  circumstantial  and  personal. 

Of  the  former  kind  (not  to  notice  the  general  rite  of 
sacrifice)  may  be  produced,  as  examples:  1.  The  pass- 
over,  appointed  in  memory  of  that  great  night,  when,  the 
destroying  angel,  who  slew  all  "  the  first-born  of  Egypt," 
passed  over  those  houses  upon  whose  door  posts  the  blood 
of  the  paschal  lamb  was  sprinkled ;  and  directed  to  be 
eaten  with  what  the  apostle,  1  Cor.  v,  7,  8,  calls  "  the 
unleavened  bread  of  sincerity  and  truth."  2.  The  annual 
expiation,  in  two  respects :  first,  as  the  high  priest  entered 
into  the  holy  of  holies  (representing  heaven,  Exod.  xxv, 
40,  Heb.  ix,  24,)  with  the  blood  of  the  sacrifice,  whose 
body  was  burnt  without  the  camp,  "  wherefore  Jesus  also, 
that  he  might  sanctify  the  people  with  his  own  blood,  suf- 
fered without  the  gate,"  Heb.  xiii,  12,  and  "  after  he  had 
offered  one  sacrifice  for  sin,  for  ever  sat  down  at  the  right 
hand  of  God,"  x,  12;  and  secondly,  as  "all  the  iniquity 
of  the  children  of  Israel  was  put  upon  the  head"  of  the 
scape  goat,  Lev.  xvi,  21.  3.  The  brazen  serpent,  by  look- 
ing up  to  which  the  people  were  cured  of  the  stings  of  the 
fiery  serpents ;  and  whose  "  lifting  up"  was,  by  Christ 
himself,  interpreted  as  emblematical  of  his  being  lifted  up 
2*  76 


18 

on  the  cross,  John  iii,  14.  4.  The  manna,  which  repre- 
sented "the  bread  oflife,  that  came  down  from  heaven," 
John  vi,  31—35.  5.  The  rock,  whence  the  waters  flowed, 
to  supply  drink  in  the  wilderness ;  "  and  that  rock  was 
Christ,"  1  Cor.  x,  4.  6.  The  sabbath,  "  a  shadow  of 
Christ;"  Col.  ii,  16,  17,  and,  as  a  figure  of  his  eternal 
rest,  denominated  "  a  sign  of  the  perpetual  covenant," 
Exod.  xxxi,  16, 17 ;  Ezek.  xx,  12, 20.  And,  lastly,  to  omit 
others,  The  temple,  where  alone  the  shadowy  sacrifices 
were  to  be  offered,  because  Christ,  "  the  body,"  was  to 
be  offered  there  himself. 

Of  personal  types,  likewise,  I  shall  confine  myself  to 
such  as  are  so  considered  in  the  New  Testament. 

1.  Adam,  between  whom  and  Christ  a  striking  series 
of  relations  is  remarked,  Rom.  v,  12-21,  and  1  Cor.  xv, 
45-49.  2.  Noah,  who  was  "saved  by  water;  the  like 
figure  whereunto,  even  baptism,  doth  now  save, us,  by  the 
resurrection  of  Jesus  Christ,"  1  Peter  iii,  20,  21.  3.  Mtt- 
chisedec,  king  of  Salem,  who  was  made  "  like  unto  the 
Son  of  God,  a  priest  continually,"  Heb.  vii,  3.  4.  Abraham, 
"  the  heir  of  the  world,"  Rom.  iv,  13,  "  in  whom  all  the 
nations  of  the  earth  are  blest,"  Gen.  xviii,  18.  5.  Isaac, 
in  his  birth  and  intended  sacrifice,  whence  also  his  father 
received  him  in  a  figure,  Heb.  xi,  19,  that  is,  of  the 
resurrection  of  Christ.  He  too  was  the  promised  seed, 
Gen.  xxi,  12,  and  Gal.  iii,  16,  in  whom  all  the  nations  of 
the  earth  were  to  be  blessed,  Gen.  xxii,  18.  6.  Jacob,  in 
his  vision  of  the  ladder,  Gen.  xxviii,  12,  and  John  i,  51, 
and  his  wrestling  with  the  angel ;  whence  he,  and  after 
him  the  church,  obtained  the  name  of  Israel,  Gen.  xxvii, 
24,  and  Matt,  xi,  21.  The  Gentile  world  also,  like  Jacob, 
gained  the  blessing  and  heirship  from  their  e'der  brethren 
the  Jews.  7.  Moses,  Deut.  xviii,'  18,  and  John  i,  45,  in 
redeeming  the  children  of  Israel  out  of  Egypt.  8.  Joshua, 
called  also  Jesus,  Heb.  iv,  8,  in  acquiring  for  them  the 
possession  of  the  Holy  Land,  and  as  lieutenant  to  the 
"  captain  of  the  host  of  the  Lord,"  Josh,  v,  14.  9.  David, 
Psalm  xvi,  10,  and  Acts  ii,  25-35,  upon  whose  throne 
Christ  is  said  to  sit,  Isa.  ix,  7,  and  by  whose  name  he  is 
frequently  designated,  Hos.  iii,  5,  &,c,  in  his  pastoral, 
regal,  and  prophetical  capacity.  10.  Jonah,  in  his  dark 
imprisonment  of  three  days,  applied  by  Christ  to  himself, 
Matt,  xii,  40. 


19 

The  eighth  mark  is,  that  the  facts  of  Christianity  are 
such  as  to  make  it  impossible  for  either  the  relators  or 
the  hearers  to  believe  them,  if  false,  without  supposing 
a  universal  deception  of  the  senses  of  mankind. 

For  they  were  related  by  the  doers,  or  by  eye  witnesses, 
to  those  who  themselves  likewise  either  were,  or  might 
have  been,  present,  and  undoubtedly  knew  many  that  were 
present,  at  their  performance.  To  this  circumstance,  in- 
deed, both  Christ  and  his  apostles  often  appeal.  And  they 
were  of  such  a  nature,  as  wholly  to  exclude  everv  chance - 
of  imposition.  What  juggler  could  have  given  sight  to  him 
"  that  was  born  blind ;"  have  fed  five  thousand  hungry 
guests  with  "  five  loaves  and  two  fishes ;"  or  have  raised 
one,  who  had  been  "  four  days  buried,"  from  his' grave  ? 

When,  then,  we  add  to  this,  that  none  of  the  Jewish 
or  Roman  persecutors  of  Christianity,  to  whom  its  first 
teachers  frequently  referred  as  witnesses  of  those  facts, 
ever  ventured  to  deny  them ;  that  no  apostate  disciple, 
under  the  fear  of  punishment,  or  the  hope  of  reward,  not 
even  the  artful  and  accomplished  Julian  himself,  ever  pre- 
tended to  detect  them :  that  neither  learning  nor  ingenuity, 
in  the  long  lapse  of  so  many  years,  has  been  able  to  show 
their  falsehood  :  though,  for  the  first  three  centuries  after 
their  promulgation,  the  civil  government  strongly  stimu- 
lated hostile  inquiry :  and  that  their  original  relaters,  after 
lives  of  unintermitted  hardship,  joyfully  incurred  death  in 
defence  of  their  truth — we  cannot  imagine  the  possibility 
of  a  more  perfect  or  abundant  demonstration. 

It  now  rests  with  the  deists,  if  they  would  vindicate 
their  claim  to  the  self-bestowed  title  of  "  men  of  reason'1 
to  adduce  some  matters  of  fact  of  former  ages,  which  they 
allow  to  be  true,  possessing  evidence  superior,  or  even 
similar,  to  those  of  Christ.  This,  however,  it  must  at  the 
same  time  be  observed,  would  be  far  from  proving  the  mat- 
ters of  fact  respecting  Christ  to  be  false ;  but  certainly, 
without  this,  they  cannot  reasonably  assert  that  their  own 
facts  alone,  so  much  less  powerfully  attested,  are  true. 

Let  them  produce  their  Cesar,  or  Mohammed, 

1.  Performing  a  fact,  of  which  men's  outward  senses  can 
judge ;  •«• 

2.  Publicly,  in  the  presence  of  witnesses ;  16 ; 

3.  In  memory  of  which  public  monuments  and   Matt, 
are  kept  up ;  According 


20 

4.  Instituted  and  commencing  at  the  time  of  the  fact ; 

5.  Recorded  likewise  in  a  set  of  books,  addressed  to  the 
identical  people  before  whom  it  was  performed,  and  con- 
taining their  whole  code  of  civil  and  ecclesiastical  laws  ; 

6.  As  the  work  of  one  previously  announced  for  that 
very  period  by  a  long  train  of  prophecies ; 

7.  And  still  more  peculiarly  prefigured  by  types,  both 
of  a  circumstantial  and  personal  nature,  from  the  earliest 
ages ;  and, 

8.  Of  such  a  character  as  made  it  impossible  for  either 
the  relaters  or  hearers  to  believe  it,  if  false,  without  sup- 
posing a  universal  deception  of  the  senses  of  mankind. 

Farther;  let  them  display,  in  its  professed  eye  witnesses, 
similar  proofs  of  veracity;  in  some  doctrines  founded  upon 
it,  and  unaided  by  force  or  intrigue,  a  like  triumph  over  the 
prejudices  and  passions  of  mankind  :  among  its  believers, 
equal  skill  and  equal  diligence  in  scrutinizing  its  evidences, 
OR  LET  THEM  SUBMIT  TO  THE  IRRESISTIBLE  CERTAINTY 
OF  THE  CHRISTIAN  RELIGION. 

And  now,  reader,  solemnly  consider  what  that  religion 
is,  the  truth  of  which  is  proved  by  so  many  decisive  marks. 
It  is  a  declared  revelation  from  God  :  pronounces  all  men 
guilty  hi  his  sight;  proclaims  pardon  as  his  free  gift 
through  the  meritorious  righteousness,  sacrifice,  and  inter- 
cession of  his  only  Son,  to  all  who  trust  alone  in  his  mercy 
and  grace,  cordially  repenting  and  forsaking  their  sins; 
requires  fervent  love,  ardent  zeal,  and  cordial  submission 
towards  himself,  and  the  highest  degree  of  personal  purity 
aad  temperance,  with  rectitude  and  benevolence  towards 
others ;  and  offers  the  aid  of  the  Holy  Spirit  for  these  pur- 
poses, to  all  who  sincerely  ask  it.  Consider,  this  religion 
is  the  only  true  one,  and  this  is  tremendously  true;  while  it 
promises  peace  on  earth  and  eternal  happiness  to  all  who 
do  receive  and  obey  it,  it  denounces  everlasting  destruc- 
tion against  all  who  do  not.  It  is  in  vain  for  you  to  admit 
its  truth,  unless  you  receive  it  as  your  confidence,  and 
obey  it  as  your  rule.  Oh  study,  oh  embrace  it  for  yourself: 
and  may  the  God  of  love  and  peace  be  with  you.  Amen. 


PUBLISHED   BT   N.    BANGS   AND   J.    EMORT, 

-or  the  Tract  Society  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  at  the  Conference 
regal,  Office,  14  Crosby-street,  New-York. 


-. 

Matt.  XH,  -«t. 

76 


13 

Who  were  already  under  the  government  of  laws  in  some 
degree  adapted  to  their  respective  climates  and  characters, 
yet  was  it  intended  as  the  spiritual  guide  of  the  new 
church.  And  in  this  respect  this  mark  is  still  stronger 
with  regard  to  the  gospel,  than  even  to  the  books  of 
Moses;  inasmuch  as  it  is  easier  (however  haid)  to  imagine 
the  substitution  of  an  entire  statute  book  in  one  particular 
nation,  than  that  all  the  nations  of  Christendom  should  have 
unanimously  conspired  in  the  forgery.  But  without  such  ? 
a  conspiracy,  such  a  forgery  could  never  have  succeeded, 
as  the  gospel  universally  formed  a  regular  part  of  their 
daily  public  offices. 

But  I  hasten  to  the  sixth  mark,  namely,  prophecy. 

The  great  fact  of  Christ's  coming  was  previously  an 
nounced  to  the  Jews,  in  the  Old  Testament,  "  by  all  the 
holy  prophets  which  have  been  since  the  world  began," 
Luke  i,  70. 

The  first  promise  upon  the  subject  was  made  to  Adam, 
immediately  after  the  fall,  Gen.  iii,  15.  Compare  Cpl.  ii,  15, 
and  Heb.  ii,  14. 

He  was  again  repeatedly  promised  to  Abraham,  Gen. 
xii,  3,  xviii,  18,  and  xxii,  18 ;  Gal.  iii,  16 ;  to  Isaac,  Gen. 
xxvi,  4,  and  to  Jacob,  Gen.  xxviii,  14. 

Jacob  expressly  prophesied  of  him,  under  the  appellation 
of  "  Shiloh,"  or  Him  that  was  to  be  sent,  Gen.  xlix,  10. 
Balaam  also,  with  the  voice  of  inspiration,  pronounced  him 
"  the  Star  of  Jacob,  and  the  sceptre  of  Israel,"  Numb. 
xxiv,  17.  Moses  spake  of  him,  as  One  "  greater  than 
himself,"  Deut.  xviii,  15,  18,  19;  Acts,  iii,  22.  And 
Daniel  hailed  his  arrival,  under  the  name  of  "  Messiah 
the  Prince,"  chap,  ix,  25. 

It  was  foretold,  that  he  should  be  born  of  a  virgin,  Isa. 
vii,  14,  in  the  city  of  Bethlehem,  Micah  v,  2,  of  the  seed 
of  Jesse,  Isa.  xi,  1,  10;  that  he  should  lead  a  life  of 
poverty  and  suffering,  Psalm  xxii,  inflicted  upon  him, 
"  not  for  himself,"  Dan.  ix,  26,  but  for  the  sins  of  others, 
Isa.  liii,  and,  after  a  short  confinement  in  the  grave, 
should  rise  again,  Psalm  xvi,  10:  Acts  ii,  27,  31,  and 
xiii,  35-37 ;  that  he  "  should  sit  upon  the  throne  of 
•David  for  ever,"  and  be  called  "  the  mighty  God,"  Isa. 
ix,  6,  7,  "the  Lord  our  righteousness,"  Jer.  xxxiii,  16; 
"  Immanuel,  that  is,  God  with  us,"  Isa.  vii,  14 ;  Matt, 
i,  23 ;  and  by  David  himself,  whoso  son  he  was  according 
2  71 


14 

to  the  flesh,  "  Lord,"  Psalm  ex,  1,  applied  to  Christ  by 
himself.  Matt,  xxii,  44,  and  by  Peter,  Acts  ii,  34. 

The  time  of  his  incarnation  was  to  be  before  "  the 
sceptre  should  depart  from  Judah,"  Gen.  xlix,  10,  during 
the  continuance  of  the  second  temple,  Hag.  ii,  7,  9,  and 
within  seventy  weeks,  or  490  days,  that  is,  according  to 
the  constant  interpretation  of  prophecy,  490  years  from  its 
erection.  Dan.  ix,  24. 

From  these,  and  many  other  predictions,  the  coming  of 
Christ  was  at  all  times  the  general  expectation  of  the  Jews ; 
and  rally  matured,  at  the  time  of  his  actual  advent,  as  may 
be  inferred  from  the  number  of  false  messiahs  who  ap- 
peared about  that  period. 

That  he  was  likewise  the  expectation  of  the  Gentiles, 
(in  conformity  to  the  prophecies  of  Gen.  xxix,  10,  and 
Hag.  ii,  7,  where  the  terms  "people,"  and  "nations," 
denote  the  heathen  world,)  is  evinced  by  the  coming  of 
the  wise  men  from  the  east,  &c,  a  story,  which  would  of 
course  have  been  contradicted  by  some  of  the  individuals 
so  disgracefully  concerned  in  it,  if  the  fact  of  their  arrival, 
and  the  consequent  massacre  of  the  infants  in  and  about 
Bethlehem,  had  not  been  fresh  in  every  one's  memory : 
by  them,  for  instance,  who  afterwards  suborned  false  wit- 
nesses against  Christ,  and  gave  large  money  to  the  soldiers 
to  conceal,  if  possible,  the  event  of  his  resurrection ;  or 
them  who,  in  still  later  days,  every  where  zealously  "  spake 
against"  the  tenets  and  practices  of  his  rising  church. 

All  over  the  east,  indeed,  there  was  a  general  tradition, 
that  about  that  time  a  king  of  the  JEWS  would  be  born,  who 
should  govern  the  whole  earth.  This  prevailed  so  strongly 
at  Rome,  a  few  months  before  the  birth  of  Augustus,  that 
the  senate  made  a  decree,  to  expose  all  the  children  born 
that  year ;  but  the  execution  of  it  was  eluded  by  a  trick 
of  some  of  the  senators,  who,  from  the  pregnancy  of  their 
wives,  were  led  to  hope  that  they  might  be  the  fathers  of 
the  promised  prince.  Its  currency  is  also  recorded  with 
a  remarkable  identity  of  phrase,  by  the  pens  of  Suetonius 
and  Tacitus.  Now  that  in  this  there  was  no  collusion 
between  the  Chaldeans,  Romans,  and  Jews,  is  sufficiently 
proved  by  the  desperate  methods  suggested,  or  carried 
into  effect,  for  its  discomfiture.  Nor,  in  fact,  is  it  prac- 
ticable for  whole  nations  of  contemporary  (and  still  less, 
if  possible,  for  those  of  successive)  generations,  to' concert 


15 

a  story  perfectly  harmonious  in  all  its  minute  accompani- 
ments of  time,  place,  manner,  and  other  circumstances. 

In  addition  to  the  above  general  predictions  of  the 
coming,  life,  death,  and  resurrection  of  Christ,  there  are 
others  which  foretel  still  more  strikingly  several  particular 
incidents  of  the  gospel  narrative  ;  instances  unparalleled 
in  the  whole  range  of  history,  and  which  could  have  been 
foreseen  by  God  alone.  They  were  certainly  not  foreseen 
by  the  human  agents  concerned  in  their  execution ;  or 
they  would  never  have  contributed  to  the  fulfilment  of 
prophecies  referred  even  by  themselves  to  the  Messiah, 
and  therefore  verifying  the  divine  mission  of  him  whom 
they  crucified  as  an  impostor. 

Observe,  then,  how  literally  many  of  these  predictions 
were  fulfilled.  For  example  :  read  Psa.  Ixix,  21,  "  They 
gave  me  gall- to  eat$  and  vinegar  to  drink ;"  and  compare 
Matt,  xxvii,  34,  "  They  gave  him  vinegar  to  drink,  mingled 
with  gall."  Again,  it  is  said,  Psa.  xxii,  16-18,  "  They 
pierced  my  hands  and  my  feet.  They  part  my  garments 
among  t\  em,  and  cast  lots  upon  my  vesture  ;"*  as  if  it  had 
been  wr'.tten  after,  John  xix,  23,  24.  It  is  predicted,  like- 

*  The  soldiers  did  not  tear  his  coat,  because  it  was  without  seam, 
woven  from  tti?  top  tkrnuekout;  and  therefore  they  cast  lots  for  it. 
But  this  was  entirely  accidental.  With  the  passage  in  the  Psalms, 
as  Romans,  they  were  not  likely  to  be- acquainted.  The  same  re- 
mark applies  to  the  next  instance,  from  Zechariab. 

And  here  it  may  be  suggested,  (in  reply  to  those  who  insidiously 
magnify  "  the  power  of  chance,  the  ingenuity  of  accommodation, 
and  the  industry  of  research,"  as  chiefly  supporting  the  credit  of 
Obscure  prophecy,)  that  greater  plainness  would  have  enabled 
wicked  men,  as  free  agents,  to  prevent  its  accomplishment,  when 
obviously  directed  against  themselves.  The  Jews  not  understand- 
ing what  Christ  meant  by  his  "  lifting  up,"  John  viii,  2b,  xii,  32, . 
33,  and  not  knowing  that  he  had  foretold  his  crucifixion  to  his 
apostles,  Matt,  xx,  I'.),  instead  of  finally  stoning  him — the  death 
appointed  by  their  law,  Lev.  xxiv,  16,  for  blasphemy,  Matt,  xxvi, 
65,  more  than  once  menaced  against  the  Saviour,  John  viii.  59, 
x,  33.  and  actually  inflicted  upon  Stephen,  Acts  vii,  58,  for  that 
offence — unconsciously  delivered  him  to  the  predicted  Roman 
cross.  Again ;  the  piercing  of  his  side  was  no  part  of  the  Roman 
sentence,  but  merely  td  ascertain  his  being  dead,  previously  to 
taking  him  down  from  the  cross ;  "  that  the  body  might  not  remain 
there  on  the  sabbath  day."  which  commenced  that  evening,  a  few 
hours  after  the  crucifixion.  From  his  early  .«•/  •.•hi?  up  the  i'W/, 
however,  it  was  not  necessary  that  "  a  bone  of  him  should  be  . 
broken,"  Exod.  xii,  46  ;  Numb,  ix,  12  ;  Psa.  xxxiv,  20,  like  those 
of  the  two  thieves,  his  fellow  sufferers,  John  xix,  32,  36. 


10 

wise,  Zech.  xii,  10,  "  They  shall  look  upon  rne  whom  they 
have  pierced ;"  and  we  are  told,  John  xix,  34,  that  "  one 
of  the  soldiers  with  a  spear  pierced  his  side." 

Compare  also  Psa.  xxii,  7,  8,  "  All  they  that  see  me 
laugh  me  to  scorn :  they  shoot  out  their  lips  and  shake 
their  heads,  saying,  He  trusted  in  God  that  he  would  deli- 
ver him ;  let  him  deliver  him  if  he  will  have  him,"  with 
Matt,  xxvii,  39,  41,  43,  "  And  they  that  passed  by  reviled 
him,  wagging  their  heads,  and  saying,  Come  down  from  the 
cross.  Likewise  also  the  chief  priests  mocking  him,  with 
the  scribes  and  elders  said,  He  trusted  in  God :  let  him 
deliver  him  now,  if  he  will  have  him ;  for  he  said,  I  am 
the  Son  of  God."  His  very  price,  and  the  mode  of  laying 
out  the  money,  previously  specified,  Zech.  ix,  13,  are 
historically  stated  by  Matthew,  in  perfect  correspondence 
with  the  prophet,  chap,  xxvii,  6,  7.  And  his  riding  into 
Jerusalem  upon  an  ass,  predicted,  Zech.  ix,  9,  and  refer- 
red by  one  of  the  most  learned  of  the  Jewish  rabbies  to 
the  Messiah,  is  recorded  by  the  same  inspired  historian, 
chap,  xxi,  9.  Lastly,  it  was  foretold  that  "  he  should 
make  his  grave  with  the  wicked,  and  with  the  rich  in  his 
death,"  Isa.  liii,  9  ;  or,  as  Dr.  Lowth  translates  the  pas- 
sage, "  his  grave  was  appointed  with  the  wicked,  but  with 
the  rich  man  was  his  tomb ;"  which  prediction  was  pre- 
cisely verified  by  the  very  improbable  incidents  of  his  being 
crucified  between  two  thieves,  Matt,  xxvii,  38,  and  after- 
wards laid  in  the  tomb  of  the  rich  man  of  Arimathea.  Ib. 
57,  60. 

Thus  do  the  prophecies  of  the  Old  Testament,  without 
variation  or  ambiguity,  refer  to  the  person  and  character 
of  Christ.  His  own  predictions  in  the  New,  demand  a  few 
brief  observations. 

Those  relating  to  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem,  which 
specified  that  it  should  be  "  laid  even  with  the  ground," 
and  "  not  one  stone  be  left  upon  another,"  Luke  ix,  44, 
*'  before  that  generation  passed,"  Matt,  xxiv,  34,  were 
fulfilled  in  a  most  surprisingly  literal  manner,  the  very 
foundations  of  the  temple  being  ploughed  up  by  Turnus 
Rufus.  In  another  remarkable  prophecy  he  announced  the 
many  false  messiahs  that  should  come  after  him,  and  the 
ruin  in  which  their  followers  should  be  involved,  Matt. 
xxvi,  25,  26.  That  great  numbers  actually  assumed  that 
holy  character,  before  the  final  fall  of  the  city,  and  led  the 


17 

people  into  the  wilderness  to  their  destruction, , we  learn 
from  Josephus.  Antiq.  Jud.  xviii,  12,  xx,  6,  and  B.  J.  viii, 
31.  Nay,  such  was  their  wretched  infatuation,  that  under 
this  delusion  they  rejected  the  offers  of  Titus,  who  courted 
them  to  peace.  Id.  B.  J.  vii,  12. 

It  will  be  sufficient  barely  to  mention  his  foretelling  the 
dispersion  of  that  unhappy  nation,  and  the  triumph  of  his 
gospel  over  the  gates  of  hell,  under  every  possible  disad- 
vantage— himself  low  and  despised,  his  immediate  asso- 
ciates only  twelve,  and  those  illiterate  and  unpolished,  and 
his  adversaries  the  allied  powers,  prejudices,  habits,  inte- 
rests, and  appetites  of  mankind. 

But  the  seventh  mark  is  still  more  peculiar,  if  possible, 
to  Christ,  than  even  that  of  prophecy.  For  whatever  may 
be  weakly  pretended  with  regard  to  the  oracular  predic- 
tions of  Delphi  or  Dodona,  the  heathens  never  affected  to 
prefigure  any  future  event  by  types  or  resemblances  of  ihe 
fact,  consisting  of  analogies  either  in  individuals,  or  in  sen- 
sible institutions  directed  to  be  continued,  till  the  antitype 
itself  should  make  its  appearance. 

These  types,  in  the  instance  of  Christ,  were  of  a  two- 
fold nature,  circumstantial  and  personal. 

Of  the  former  kind  (not  to  notice  the  general  rite  of 
sacrifice)  may  be  produced,  as  examples:  1.  The  pass- 
over,  appointed  in  memory  of  that  great  night,  when  the 
destroying  angel,  who  slew  all  "  the  first-born  of  Egypt," 
passed  over  those  houses  upon  whose  door  posts  the  blood 
of  the  paschal  lamb  was  sprinkled ;  and  directed  to  be 
eaten  with  what  the  apostle,  1  Cor.  v,  7,  8,  calls  "  the 
unleavened  bread  of  sincerity  and  truth."  2.  The  annual 
expiation,  in  two  respects :  first,  as  the  high  priest  entered 
into  the  holy  of  holies  (representing  heaven,  Exod.  xxv, 
40,  Heb.  ix,  24,)  with  the  blood  of  the  sacrifice,  whose 
body  was  burnt  without  the  camp,  "  wherefore  Jesus  also, 
that  he  might  sanctify  the  people  with  his  own  blood,  suf- 
fered without  the  gate,"  Heb.  xiii,  12,  and  "  after  he  had 
offered  one  sacrifice  for  sin,  for  ever  sat  down  at  the  right 
hand  of  God,"  x,  12;  and  secondly,  as  "all  the  iniquity 
of  the  children  of  Israel  was  put  upon  the  head"  of  the 
scape  goat,  Lev.  xvi,  21.  3.  The  brazen  serpent,  by  look- 
ing up  to  which  the  people  were  cured  of  the  stings  of  the 
fiery  serpents ;  and  whose  "  lifting  up"  was,  by  Christ 
himself,  interpreted  as  emblematical  of  his  being  lifted  up 


18 

on  the  cross,  John  iii,  14.  4.  The  manna,  which  repre- 
sented "the  bread  of  life,  that  came  down  from  heaven,' : 
John  vi,  31-35.  5.  The.  rock,  whence  the  waters  flowed, 
to  supply  drink  in  the  wilderness;  "  and  that  rock  was 
Christ,"  1  Cor.  x,  4.  6.  The  sabbath,  "  a  shadow  of 
Christ;"  Col.  ii,  16,  17,  and,  as  a  figure  of  his  eternal 
rest,  denominated  "  a  sign  of  the  perpetual  covenant," 
Exod.  xxxi,  16, 17 ;  Ezek.  xx,  12,  20.  And,  lastly,  to  omit 
others,  The  temple,  where  alone  the  shadowy  sacrifices 
were  to  be  offered,  because  Christ,  "  the  body,"  was  to 
be  offered  there  himself. 

Of  personal  types,  likewise,  I  shall  confine  myself  to 
such  as  are  so  considered  in  the  New  Testament. 

1.  Adam,  between  whom  and  Christ  a  striking  series 
of  relations  is  remarked,  Rom.  v,  12-21,  and  1  Cor.  xv, 
45-49.  2.  Noah,  who  was  "  saved  by  water ;  the  like 
figure  whereunto,  even  baptism,  doth  now  save  us,  by  the 
resurrection  of  Jesus  Christ,"  1  Peter  iii,  20,  21.  3.  Mel- 
chisedec,  king  of  Salem,  who  was  made  "  like  unto  the 
Son  of  God,  a  priest  continually,"  Heb.  vii,  3.  4.  Abraham, 
"  the  heir  of  the  world,"  Rom.  iv,  13,  "  in  whom  all  the 
nations  of  the  earth  are  blest,"  Gen.  xviii,  18.  5.  Isaac, 
in  his  birth  and  intended  sacrifice,  whence  also  his  father 
received  him  in  a  figure,  Heb.  xi,  19,  that  is,  of  the 
resurrection  of  Christ.  He  too  was  the  promised  seed, 
Gen.  xxi,  12,  and  Gal.  iii,  16,  in  whom  all  the  nations  of 
the  earth  were  to  be  blessed,  Gen.  xxii,  18.  6.  Jacob,  in 
his  vision  of  the  ladder,  Gen.  %xxviii,  12,  and  John  i,  51, 
and  his  wrestling  with  the  angel ;  whence  he,  and  after 
him  the  church,  obtained  the  name  of  Israel,  Gen.  xxvii, 
24,  and  Matt,  xi,  21.  The  Gentile  world  also,  like  Jacob, 
gained  the  blessing  and  heirship  from  their  e'der  brethren 
the  Jews.  7.  Moses,  Deut.  xviii,  18,  and  John  i,  45,  in 
redeeming  the  children  of  Israel  out  of  Egypt.  8.  Joshua, 
called  also  Jesus,  Heb.  iv,  8,  in  acquiring  for  them  the 
possession  of  the  Holy  Land,  and  as  lieutenant  to  the 
"  captain  of  the  host  of  the  Lord,"  Josh,  v,  14.  9.  David, 
Psalm  xvi,  10,  and  Acts  ii,  25-35,  upon  whose  throne 
Christ  is  said  to  sit,  Isa.  ix,  7,  and  by  whose  name  he  is 
frequently  designated,  Hos.  iii,  5,  &c,  in  his  pastoral, 
regal,  and  prophetical  capacity.  10.  Jonah,  in  his  dark 
imprisonment  of  three  days,  applied  by  Christ  to  himself, 
Matt,  xii,  40. 

76 


19 

The  eighth  marie  is,  that  the  facts  of  Christianity  are 
such  as  to  make  it  impossible  for  either  the  relators  or 
the  hearers  to  believe  them,  if  false,  without  supposing 
a  universal  deception  of  the  senses  of  mankind. 

For  they  were  related  by  the  doers,  or  by  eye  witnesses, 
to  those  who  themselves  likewise  either  were,  or  might 
have  been,  present,  and  undoubtedly  knew  many  that  were 
present,  at  their  performance.  To  this  circumstance,  in- 
deed, both  Christ  and  his  apostles  often  appeal.  And  they 
were  of  such  a  nature,  as  wholly  to  exclude  ever^  chance 
of  imposition.  What  juggler  could  have  given  sight  to  him 
"  that  was  born  blind ;"  have  fed  five  thousand  hungry 
guests  with  "  five  loaves  and  two  fishes ;"  or  have  raised 
one,  who  had  been  "  four  days  buried,"  from  his  grave  ? 

When,  then,  we  add  to  this,  that  none  of  the  Jewish 
or  Roman  persecutors  of  Christianity,  to  whom  its  first 
teachers  frequently  referred  as  witnesses  of  those  facts, 
ever  ventured  to  deny  them ;  that  no  apostate  disciple, 
under  the  fear  of  punishment,  or  the  hope  ef  reward,  not 
even  the  artful  and  accomplished  Julian  himself,  ever  pre- 
tended to  detect  them :  that  neither  learning  nor  ingenuity, 
in  the  long  lapse  of  so  many  years,  has  been  able  to  show 
their  falsehood :  though,  for  the  first  three  centuries  after 
their  promulgation,  the  civil  government  strongly  stimu- 
lated hostile  inquiry :  and  that  their  original  relaters,  after 
lives  of  unintermitted  hardship,  joyfully  incurred  death  in 
defence  of  their  truth — we  cannot  imagine  the  possibility 
of  a  more  perfect  or  abundant  demonstration. 

It  now  rests  with  the  deists,  if  they  would  vindicate 
their  claim  to  the  self-bestowed  title  of  "  men  of  reason" 
to  adduce  some  matters  of  fact  of  former  ages,  which  they 
allow  to  be  true,  possessing  evidence  superior,  or  even 
similar,  to  those  of  Christ.  This,  however,  it  must  at  the 
same  time  be  observed,  would  be  far  from  proving  the  mat- 
ters of  fact  respecting  Christ  to  be  false ;  but  certainly, 
without  this,  they  cannot  reasonably  assert  that  their  own 
facts  alone,  so  much  less  powerfully  attested,  are  true. 

Let  them  produce  their  Cesar,  or  Mohammed, 

1.  Performing  a  fact,  of  which  men's  outward  senses  can 
judge ; 

2.  Publicly,  in  the  presence  of  witnesses ; 

3.  In  memory  of  which  public  monuments  and  actions 
are  kept  up ; 

76  ' 


20 

4.  Instituted  and  commencing  at  the  time  of  the  fact  ; 

5.  Recorded  likewise  in  a  set  of  books,  addressed  to  the 
identical  people  before  whom  it  was  performed,  and  con- 
taining their  whole  code  of  civil  and  ecclesiastical  laws  ; 

6.  As  the  work  of  one  previously  announced  for  that 
very  period  by  a  long  train  of  prophecies  ; 

7.  And  still  more  peculiarly  prefigured  by  types,  both 
of  a  circumstantial  and  personal  nature,  from  the  earliest 
ages;  and, 

8.  Of  such  a  character  as  made  it  impossible  for  either 
the  relaters  or  hearers  to  believe  it,  if  false,  without  sup- 
posing a  universal  deception  of  the  senses  of  mankind. 

Farther;  let  them  display,  in  its  prof  cssed  eye  witnesses, 
similar  proofs  of  veracity;  in  some  doctrines  founded  upon 
it,  and  unaided  by  force  or  intrigue,  a  like  triumph  over  the 
prejudices  and  passions  of  mankind  :  among  its  believers, 
equal  skill  and  equal  diligence  in  scrutinizing  its  evidences, 
OR  LET  THEM  SUBMIT  TO  THE  IRRESISTIBLE  CERTAINTY 
OF  THE  CHRISTIAN  RELIGION. 

And  now,  reader,  solemnly  consider  what  that  religion 
is,  the  truth  of  which  is  proved  by  so  many  decisive  marks. 
It  is  a  declared  revelation  from  God  ;  pronounces  all  men 
guilty  ii.  his  sight;  proclaims  pardon  as  his  free  gift 
through  the  meritorious  righteousness,  sacrifice,  and  inter- 
cession of  his  only  Son,  to  all  who  trust  alone  in  his  mercy 
and  grace,  cordially  repenting  and  forsaking  their  sins; 
requires  fervent  love,  ardent  zeal,  and  cordial  submission 
towards  himself,  and  the  highest  degree  of  personal  purity 
and  temperance,  with  rectitude  and  benevolence  towards 
others;  and  offers  the  aid  of  the  Holy  Spirit  for  these  pur- 
poses, to  all  who  sincerely  ask  it.  Consider,  this  religion 
is  the  only  true  one,  and  this  is  tremendously  true;  while  it 
promises  peace  on  earth  and  eternal  happiness  to  all  who 
do  receive  and  obey  it,  it  denounces  everlasting  destruc- 
tion against  all  who  do  not.  It  is  in  vain  for  you  to  admit 
its  truth,  unless  you  receive  it  as  your  confidence,  and 
obey  it  as  your  rule.  Oh  study,  oh  embrace  it  for  yourself: 
and  may  the  God  of  love  and  peace  be  with  you.  Amen, 


PUBLISHED    BY   N.    BANGS    AND   J.    EMORT, 

For  the  Tract  Society  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  at  the  Conference 
Office,  14  Crosby-street,  New-York. 

Jlzor  Koyt,  Printer. 


WO.  77. 
ON  DRESS. 


FROM  MR.  WESLEY'S  ADVICE  TO  THE  PEOPLE  CALLED 
METHODISTS. 


1.  1.  MANY  years  ago,  I  observed  several  parts  of  Chris- 
tian practice  among  the  people  called  Quakers.     Two 
thing?  I  particularly  remarked  among  them,  plainness  of 
speech  and  plainness  of  dress.     I  willingly  adopted  both, 
wit*1  -ome  restrictions,  and  particularly  plainness  of  dress; 
the  same  I  recommended  to  you,  when  God  first  called 
you  out  of  the  world ;  and  after  the  addition  of  more  than 
twenty  years'  experience,  I  recommend  it  to  you  still, 

2.  But  before  I  go  any  farther,  I  must  entreat  you,  in 
the  name  of  God,  be  open  to  conviction.     Whatever  pre- 
judices you  have  contracted  from  education,  custom,  or 
example,  dives^  yourselves  of  them  as  far  as  possible.     Be 
willing  to  receive  light  either  from  God  or  man :  do  not 
shut  your  eyes  against  it,     Rath,er  be  glad  to  see  more 
than  you  did  before,  to  have  the  eyes  of  your  understand- 
ing opened.     Receive  the  truth  in  the  love  thereof,  and 
you  will  have  reason  to  bless  God  for  ever. 

II!  1.  Not  that  I  would  advise  you  to  imitate  the  peo- 
ple called  Quakers,  in  those  little  peculiarities  of  dress, 
which  can  answer  no  possible  end  but  to  distinguish  them 
from  other  people.  To  be  singular,  merely  for  singularity's 
sake,  is  not  the  part  of  a  Christian.  I  do  not  therefore 
advise  you  to  wear  a  hat  of  such  dimensions,  or  a  coat  of 
a  particular  form.  Rather,  in  things  thit  arc  absolutely 
indifferent,  that  are  of  no  consequence  at  all,  humility  and 
courtesy  require  you  to  conform  to  the  customs  of  your 
country. 

2.  But  I  advise  you  to  imitate  them,  first,  in  the  neat- 
ness of  their  apparel.  This  is  highly  to  be  commended, 
and  quite  suitable  to  your  Christian  calling.  Lrt  all  your 
apparel  therefore  be  as  clean  as  your  situation  hi  life  will 
allow. 

I  advise  you  to  imitate  them,  secondly,  in  the  plainness 
of  their  apparel.  In  this  are  implied  two  things:  1.  That 
your  apparel  be  cheap,  not  expensive;  far  cheaper  than 
Others  in  your  circumstances  weir,  or  than  you  wouli 
wear,  if  you  knew  not  God;  2.  That  it  be  grave,  tot  gay 


airy,  or  showy ;  not  in  the  point  of  the  fashion.  And  these 
easy  rules  may  be  applied  both  to  the  materials  whe'reof  it 
is  made,  and  to  the  manner  wherein  it  is  made  or  put  on. 

3.  Would  you  have  a  farther  rule,  with  respect  to  both? 
Then  take  one  which  you  may  always  carry  in  ycur  bosom: 
"  Do  every  thing  herein  with  a  single  eye ;"  and  this  will 
direct  you  in  every  circumstance.     Let  a  single  intention 
to  please  God  prescribe  both  what  clothing  you  shall  buy, 
and  the  manner  wherein  it  shall  be  made,  and  how  )ou 
shall  put  on  and  wear  it.     To  express  the  same  thing  in 
other  words  :  let  all  you  do,  in  this  respect,  be  so  done,  that 
you  may  offer  it  to  God,  a  sacrifice  acceptable  thro.gh 
Christ  Jesus.     So  that,  consequently,  it  may  increase  your 
reward  and  brighten  your  crown  in  heaven.   And  so  it  will 
do,  if  it  be  agreeable  to  Christian  humility,  seriousness, 
and  charity. 

4.  Shall  I  be  more  particular  still  ?  Then  I  exhort  you 
to  wear  no  gold,  no  pearls,  or  precious  stones:  use  no 
curling  of  hair,  or  costly  apparel,  how  grave  soever.     1 
advise  those  who  are  able  to  receive  this  saying,  Buy  no 
superfluities,  no  mere  ornaments,  though  ever  so  much  in 
fashion.    Wear  nothing,  though  you  have  it  already,  which 
is  of  a  glaring  colour,  or  which  is  in  any  kind  gay,  glisten- 
ing, or  showy :  nothing  apt  to  attract  the  eyes  of  by-sjand- 
ers.     I  do  not  advise  women  to  wear  rings,  ear  rings, 
necklaces,  lace,  (of  whatever  kind  or  colour,)  or  ruffles, 
which  by  little  and  little  may  easily  shoot  out  from  one  to 
twelve  inches  deep.     Neither  do  I  advise  men  to  wear 
shining  stockings,  glittering  or  costly  buckles  or  buttons. 

.  It  is  true,  these  are  little,  very  little  things:  therefore  they 
are  not  worth  defending:  therefore  give  them  up,  let  them 
drop,  throw  them  away,  without  another  word.  Else  a 
little  needle  may  cause  much  pain  in  the  flesh,  a  little  sell 
riiuulgence  much  hurt  to  your  soul. 

III.  1.  For  the  preceding  exhortation  I  have  the  au- 
thority of  God  in  clear  and  express  terms.  "  I  will  that 
women  (and  by  parity  of  reason,  men  too)  adorn  them- 
selves in  modest  apparel,  with  shamefacedness  and  sobriety 
not  with  broidered  (curled)  hair,  or  gold,  or  pearls,  (one 
kind  of  precious  stones,  which  was  then  most  in  use,  put 
for  all)  or  costly  apparel ;  but,  which  becometh  women 
professing  godliness,  with  good  works,"  1  Tim  ii,  9,  10, 
Again,  "  Whose  adorning  let  it  not  be  that  ouiward 


adorning,  of  plaiting  (curling)  the  hair,  and  of  wearing  of 
gold,  or  of  putting  on  of  apparel.  But  let  it  be — the  orna- 
ment of  a  meek  and  quiet  spirit,  which  is,  in  the  sight  of 
God,  of  great  price,"  1  Pet.  iii,  3,  4.  Nothing  can  be 
more  express;  the  wearing  of  gold,  of  precious  stones,  and 
of  costly  apparel,  together  with  curling  of  hair,  is  here 
forbidden  by  name :  nor  is  there  any  restriction  made, 
either  here  or  in  any  other  scripture.  Whoever  therefore 
says,  "  There  is  us  harm  in  these  things,"  may  as  well 
say,  "  There  is  no  harm  in  stealing  or  adultery." 

2.  There  is  something  peculiarly  observable  in  the  man- 
ner, wherein  both  St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul  speak  of  these 
things.  "  Let  not  your  adorning  (says  St.  Peter)  be  that 
outward  adorning;  but  let  it  be  the  ornament  of  a  meek 
and  quiet  spirit."  The  latter  clause  is  not  added  barely 
to  fill  up  the  sentence,  but  with  strong  and  weighty 
reasons.  For  there  is  a  direct  contrariety  (as  little  as  we 
may  suspect  it)  between  that  outward  and  this  inward 
adorning :  and  that,  both  with  regard  to  their  source,  and 
with  regard  to  their  tendency.  As  to  their  source,  all  that 
adorning  springs  from  nature;  a  meek  and  quiet  spirit, 
from  grace :  the  former,  from  conforming  to  our  own  will 
and  the  will  of  man;  the  latter  from  conformity  to  the  will 
of  God.  And  as  to  their  tendency,  nothing  more  directly 
tends  to  destroy  meekness  and  quietness  of  spirit,  than  all 
that  outward  adorning  whereby  we  seek  to  commend 
ourselves  to  men.  and  not  to  God.  For  this  cherishes  all 
those  passions  and  tempers  which  overthrow  the  quiet  of 
every  soul  wherein  they  dwell. 

"  Let  them  adorn  themselves,"  saith  St.  Paul,  "  not  with 
curling  of  hair,  or  with  gold,  pearls,  or  costly  apparel,  but 
(which  becometh  women  professing  godliness)  with  good 
works."  The  latter  clause  is  here  likewise  added,  for 
plain  and  weighty  reasons.  For,  1.  That  kind  of  adorn- 
ing cannot  spring  from  godliness,  from  either  the  love  or 
fear  of  God,  from  a  desire  of  conforming  to  his  will,  or 
from  the  mind  which  was  in  Christ  Jesus.  2.  It  no  way 
tends  to  increase  godliness ;  it  is  not  conducive  to  a  holy 
temper.  But,  3.  It  manifestly  tends  to  destroy  several  of 
the  tempers  most  essential  to  godliness.  It  has  no  friendly 
influence  on  humility;  whether  we  aim  at  pleasing  others 
or  ourselves  hereby.  Either  in  one  case  or  the  other  it 
will  rather  increase  pride  or  vanity,  than  lowliness  of  heart, 


It  does  not  at  all  minister  to  the  seriousness  which  becomes 
a  sinner  born  to  die.  It  is  utterly  inconsistent  with  sim- 
plicity :  no  one  uses  it  merely  to  please  God.  Whoever 
acts  with  a  single  eye,  does  all  things  to  be  seen  and 
approved  of  God;  and  can  no  more  dress,  than  he  can 
pray,  or  give  alms,  to  be  seen  of  men. 

3.  "  O !  but  one  may  be  as  humble  in  velvet  and  embroi- 
dery, as  another  in  sackcloth."     True :  for  a  person  may 
wear  sackcloth  and  have  no  humility  at  all.     The  heart 
may  bo  rilled  with  pride  and  vanity  whatever   the  rai- 
ment be. 

4.  But  can  you  be  adorned  at  the  same  time  with  costly 
apparel  and  with  good  works  1  That  is,  in  the  same  degree 
as  you  might  have  been  had  you  bestowed  less  cost  on 
your  apparel  1  You  know  this  is  impossible :  the  more  you 
expend  on  the  one,  the  less  you  have  to  expend  on  the 
other.     Costliness  of  apparel,  in  every  branch,  is  there- 
fore immediately,  directly,  inevitably  destructive  of  good 
works.     You  see  a  brother  for  whom  Christ  died,  ready 
to  perish  for  want  of  needful  clothing.     You  would  give 
it  him  gladly :  but  alas !  it  is  corban,  whereby  he  might 
have  been  profited.     It  is  given  already,  not  indeed  for  the 
service  of  God,  not  to  the  treasury  of  the  temple ;  but 
either  to  please  the  folly  of  others,  or  to  feed  vanity,  or 
the  lust  of  the  eye  in  yourself.     Now,  (even  suppose  these 
were  harmless  tempers,  yet)  what  an  unspeakable  loss  is 
this,  if  it  be  really  true,  that  "  every  man  shall  receive  his 
own  reward,  according  to  his  own  labour  !V  If  there  is 
ind<  ed  a  reward  in  heaven  for  every  work  of  faith,  for 
every  degree  of  the  labour  of  love  ! 

Secondly.  1.  As  to  the  advice  subjoined,  it  is  easy  to 
observe  that  all  those  smaller  things  are,  in  their  degree, 
liable  to  ihe  same  objections  as  the  greater.  If  they  are 
gay,  showy,  pleasing  to  the  eye,  the  putting  them  on  does 
not  spring  from  a  single  view  to  please  God.  It  neither 
flows  from  nor  tends  to  advance  a  meek  and  quiet  spirit. 
It  does  not  arise  from,  nor  any  way  promote,  real,  vital 
godliness. 

2.  And  if  they  are  in  any  wise  costly,  if  they  are  pur- 
chased with  any  unnecessary  expense,  they  cannot  but,  in 
proportion  to  that  expense,  be  destructive  of  good  works. 
Of  consequence,  they  are  destructive  of  that  charity,  which 
is  fed  thereby ;  hardening  our  heart  against  the  cry  of  the 


poor  and  needy,  by  inuring  us  to  shut  up  our  bowels  of 
compassion  towards  them. 

3.  At  least,  all  unnecessary  expenses  of  this  kind,  whether 
small  or  great,  are  senseless  and  foolish.    This  we  may  defy 
any  man  living  to  get  over,  if  he  allows  there  is  another 
world.     For  there  is  no  reward  in  heaven  for  laying  out 
your  money  in  ornaments  or  costly  apparel :  whereas  you 
may  have  an  eternal  reward  for  whatever  you  expend  on 
earth. 

4.  Consider  this  more  closely.     Here  are  two  ways  pro- 
posed for  laying  out  such  a  sum  of  money.     I  may  lay  it 
out  in  expensive  apparel  for  myself,  or  in  necessary  cloth- 
ing for  my  neighbour.     The  former  will  please  my  own 
eye,  or  that  of  others :  the  latter  will  please  God.    Now 
suppose  there  were  no  more  harm  in  one  than  in  the  other, 
in  that  which  pleases  man  than  that  which  pleases  God; 
is  there  as  much  good  in  it  1  If  they  are  equally  innocent, 
are  they  equally  wise  ?  By  the  one  I  gratify  the  desire  of 
the  eye,  'and  gain  a  pleasure  that  perishes  in  the  using : 
by  the  other  I  gain  a  larger  share  of  those  pleasures  that 
are  at  God's  right  hand  for  evermore.     By  the  former  I 
obtain  the  applause  of  men ;  by  the  latter,  the  praise  of 
God.     In  this  way,  I  meet  with  the  admiration  of  fools : 
in  that,  I  hear  from  the  Judge  of  all,  "  Well  done,  good 
and  faithful  servant;  enter  tliou  into  the  joy  of  thy  Lord!" 

5.  Brethren,  whatever  ye  are  accounted  by  men,  I 
would  not  have  you  fools  in  God's  account.     Walk  ye 
circumspectly,  not  as  fools,  but  as  wise ;  not  in  those  ways 
which  God  may  possibly  forgive ;  (but  to  put  things  in 
the  most  favourable  light)  but  in  those  which  he  will  cer- 
tainly reward.     In  wickedness  be  ye  children  still ;  but  in 
understanding  be  ye  men.     I  want  to  see  a  visible  body  of 
people,  who  are  a  standing  example  of  this  wisdom ;  a 
pattern  of  doing  all  things  great  and  small,  with  an  eye 
to  God  and  eternity. 

IV.  1.  But  we  may  be  assured  the  wisdom  of  the  world 
will  find  out  abundance  of  objections  to  this.  Accordingly 
it  is  objected,  first,  "  If  God  has  given  us  plentiful  fortunes, 
if  v/e  are  placed  in  the  higher  ranks  of  life,  we  must  act 
suitably  to  our  fortune.  We  ought  then  to  dress  according 
to  our  rank,  that  is,  in  gold  and  costly  apparel."  Not  to 
insist,  that  none  of  you  are  of  this  rank,  I  answer,  where 
is  this  written?  Our  Saviour  once  occasionally  said,  "  Be- 


hold,  they  who  wear  gorgeous  (splendid)  apparel  are  in 
kings'  courts  :"  but  he  does  not  say,  they  ought  to  be  even 
there :  he  neither  enjoins  nor  countenances  it.  And 
where  is  this  either  enjoined  tr,allowed,  by  him  or  any  of 
his  apostles?  Bring  me  plain  scriptural  proof  for  your 
assertion,  or  I  cannot  allow  it. 

2.  "  'But  did  not  God  give  express  command  by  Moses, 
that  some  even  among  his  chosen  people  should  be  adorned 
in  the  most  exquisite  manner  with  gold  and  precious  stones 
and  costly  array?"  Indeed  he  did:  he  expressly  corr^anded 
this  with  regard  to  Aaron  and  his  successors  in  tu    high 
priesthood.     But  to  this  I  answer  first,  this  direction  which 
God  gave,  with  regard  to  the  Jewish  high  priest,  can  cer- 
tainly affect  no  person  here.     Secondly,  the  Jews  and  we 
are  under  different  dispensations.     The  glory  of  the  whole 
Mosaic  dispensation  was   chiefly  visible   and  external : 
whereas  the  glory  of  the  Christian  dispensation,  is  of  an 
invisible  and  spiritual  nature. 

3.  "  But  what  then  are  gold  and  precious  stones  for  1 
Why  have  they  a  place  in  the  creation  1  What  if  I  say  I 
cannot  tell  1  There  are  abundance  of  things  in  the  crea- 
tion which  I  do  not  know  the  use  of.     What  are  croco- 
diles, lions,  tigers,  scorpions  for?  Why  have  so  many  poi- 
sons a  place  in  the  creation  ?  Some  of  them  are  for  medi- 
cine :  but  whatever  they  are  for,  in  whatever  manner  they 
may  be  useful,  they  are  certainly  not  to  be  used  in  such  a 
manner  as  God  has  expressly  forbidden. 

4.  "  But  if  all  men  were  to  dress  plain,  how  would 
tradesmen  live  1"  I  answer,  1.  God  certainly  considered 
this,  or  ever  he  gave  these  commands.     And  he  would 
never  have  given  them  had  he  not  seen,  that,  if  they  were 
universally  observed,  men  in  general  would  live  better  than 
they  otherwise  could  :  better  in  this  world,  as  well  as  that 
to  come.     But,  2.  There  is  no  danger  at  all,  that  they 
should  be  universally  observed.     Only  a  little  flock  in  any 
civilized  nation  wifl  observe  them,  till  the  knowledge  of 
God  covers  the  earth.     3.  If  those  who  do  observe  them, 
employ  the  money  ihey  thus  save,  in  the  most  excellent 
manner,  that  part  of  what  before  only  served  to  fat  a  few 
rich  tradesmen  for  hell,  will  suffice  to  feed  and  clothe  and 
employ  many  poor,  that  seek  the  kingdom  of  heaven.    But 
it  is  not  this,  it  is  not  a  regard  to  trade,  or  the  good  of  the 
nation  that  makes  you  disobey  God.     No:  it  is  pride, 


ranity,  or  some  other  sinful  temper,  which  is  the  real 
cause  of  these  sinful  actions. 

5.  "  But  we  cannot  carry  on  out-  own  trade,  without 
dressing  like  other  people."    'If  you  mean  only,  conform- 
ing to  those  customs  of  your  country  that  are  neither  gay 
nor  costly,  why  should  you  not  "  dress"  like  other  people  V 
But  if  you  mean  "  conformity  to  them  in  what  God  Has 
forbidden,"  the  answer  is  ready  at  hand.     If  you  cannot 
carry  on  your  trade  without  breaking  God's  command, 
you  must  not  carry  it  on.     But  I  know  no  trade  which 
may  not  be  carried  on,  by  one  who  uses  plain  and  modest 
apparel.     I  fear  you  love  these  things,  and  therefore  think 
them  necessary.     Your  heart  carries  away  your  judgment : 
If  you  were  not  fond  of  them,  you  would  never  dream  of 
their  necessity. 

6.  In  one  single  case  these  things  may  be  necessary, 
that  is,  unavoidable,  namely,  that  of  women  who  are  under 
the  yoke  of  self  willed,  unreasonable  husbands  or  parents. 
Such  may  be  constrained  to  do  in  some  degree  what  other- 
wise they  would  not.     And  they  are  blameless  herein,  if, 
1.  They  use  all  possible  means,  arguments,  entreaties,  to 
be  excused  from  it ;  and  when  they  cannot  prevail,  2.  Do 
it  just  so  far  as  they  are  constrained,  and  no  farther. 

V.  1.  And  now,  brethren,  what  remains,  but  that  I  be- 
seech you  who  are  not  under  the  yoke,  who  are  under  God, 
the  directors  of  your  own  actions,  to  set  prejudice,  obstina- 
cy, fashion  aside,  and  yield  to  Scripture,  to  reason,  to  truth. 

2.  You  are  surrounded  with  saints  of  the  world,  per- 
sons fashionably,  reputably  religious.     And  these  are  con- 
stant opposers  of  all  who  would  go  farther  in  religion  than 
themselves.     These  are  continually  warning  you  against 
running  into  extremes,  and  striving  to  beguile  you  from  the 
simplicity  of  the  gospel.    You  have  near  you  still  more  dan- 
gerous enemies  than  these,  Antinomians,  who  when  any 
Christian  practice  is  enforced,  come  in  with  the  cuckoo's 
note,  "  the  law,  the  law;"  and  while  they  themselves  glory 
in  their  shame,  make  you  ashamed  of  what  should  be  you* 
glory. 

3.  You  have  been,  and  are  at  this  day,  in  perils  among 
false  brethren:  I  mean,  not  only  those  of  other  congrega- 
tions, who  count  strictness  all  one  with  bondage:    but 
tmany  of  our  own ;  in  particular  these,  who  were  once 

clearly  convinced  of  the  ruth:  but  they  have  sinned  away 


that  conviction  themselves,  and  now  endeavour  to  harden 
others  against  it :  at  least,  by  example,  by  returning  again 
to  the  folly,  from  which  they  were  once  clean  escaped. 
But  what  is  the  example  of  all  mankind  when  it  runs  coun- 
ter to  scripture  and  reason  ? 

4.  You  who  have  passed  the  morning,  perhaps  the  noon 
of  life,  who  find  the  shadows  of  the  evening  approach,  set 
a  better  example  to  those  that  are  to  come,  to  the  now 
rising  generation.     With  you  the  day  of  life  is  far  spent; 
the  night  of  death  is  at  hand.     You  have  no  time  to  lose  . 
see  that  you  redeem  every  moment  that  remains.    Remove 
every  thing  out  of  the  way,  be  it  ever  so  small  (though 
indeed  gay  or  costly  apparel  is  not  so)  that  might  any  way 
obstruct  your  lowliness  and  meekness,  your  seriousness  ol 
spirit,  your  single  intention  to  glorify  God,  in  all  your 
thoughts  and  words  and  actions.     Let  no  needless  expense 
hinder  your  being  in  the  highest  degree  you  possibly  can, 
rich  in  good  works.     Ready  to  distribute,  willing  to  com' 
municate,  till  you  are  clothed  with  glory  and  immortality. 

Our  carcasses  will  soon  fall  into  the  dust :  then  let  the 
survivors  adorn  them  with  flowers.  Meantime  let  us  regard 
those  ornaments  only,  that  will  accompany  us  into  eternity. 

5.  You  that  are  in  the  morning  of  your  days,  either 
your  form  is  agreeable,  or  it  is  not.     If  it  is  not,  do  not 
make  your  person  remarkable ;  rather  let  it  be  hid  in  com- 
mon apparel.     On  every  account,  it  is  your  wisdom,  to 
recommend  yourself  to  the  eye  of  the  mind ;  but  espe- 
cially to  the  eye  of  God,  who  reads  the  secrets  of  your 
heart,  and  in  whose  sight  the  incorruptible  ornaments 
alone  are  of  great  price.     But  if  you  would  recommend 
yourself  by  dress,  is  any  thing  comparable  to  plain  neat- 
ness 1  What  kind  of  persons  are  those  to  whom  you  could 
be  recommended  by  gay  or  costly  apparel  1    None  that 
are  any  way  likely  to  make  you  happy  :  this  pleases  only 
the  silliest  and  worst  of  men.     At  most,  it  gratifies  only 
the  silliest  and  worst  principle  in  those  who  are  of  a  nobler 
character. 

6.  To  you  whom  God  has  intrusted  with  a  more  plea- 
sing form,  those  ornaments  are  quite  needless. 

"  The  adorning  thee  with  so  much  art 

Is  but  a  barbarous  skill : 
Tis  like  the  poisoning  of  a  dart, 

Too  apt  before  to  till." 
77 


That  is,  to  express  ourselves  in  plain  English,  without  any 
figure  of  poetry,  it  only  tends  to  drag  them  faster  into 
death  everlasting,  who  were  going  fast  enough  before,  by 
additional  provocation  to  lust,  or  at  least,  inordinate  affec- 
tion. Did  you  actually  design  to  raise  either  of  these  in 
those  who  looked  upon  you?  What!  while  you  and  they 
were  in  the  more  immediate  presence  of  God?  What  pro- 
faneness  and  inhumanity  mixt  together!  But  if  you  de- 
signed it  not,  did  you  not  foresee  it?  You  might  have  done, 
so,  without  any  extraordinary  sagacity.  "  Nay,  I  did  not 
care  or  think  about  it."  And  do  you  say  this  by  way  of 
excuse?  You  scatter  abroad  arrows,  firebrands,  and  death; 
and  do  not  care  or  think  about  it ! 

7.  Oh  let  us  all  walk  more  charitably  and  more  wisely  for 
the  time  to  come  !  Let  us  all  cast  aside  from  this  very  hour 
whatever  does  not  become  men  and  women  professing 
godliness:  whatever  does  not  spring  from  the  Jove  and  fear, 
of  God,  and  minister  thereto.  Let  our  seriousness  shine 
before  men,  not  our  dress  ;  let  all  who  see  us  know  that  we 
are  not  of  this  world.  Let  our  adorning  be  that  which 
fadeth  not  away,  even  righteousness  and  true  holiness.  If 
ye  regard  not  weakening  my  hands  and  grieving  my  spirit, 
yet  grieve  not  the  Holy  Spirit  of  God.  Do  you  ask,  "  But 
what  shall  I  do  with  the  gay  or  costly  apparel,  and  with 
the  ornaments  I  have  already  ?  Must  I  suffer  them  to  be 
lost  ?  Ought  I  not  to  wear  them  now  I  have  them  ?"  I 
answer,  there  is  no  loss  like  that  of  using  them :  wearing 
them  is  the  greatest  loss  of  all.  But  what  then  shalt  thou 
do  with  them  ?  Burn  them  rather  than  wear  them  ;  throw 
them  into  the  depth  of  the  sea.  Or  if  thou  canst  with  a 
clear  conscience,  sell  them,  and  give  the  money  to  them 
that  want.  But  buy  no  more  at  the  peril  of  thy  soul.  Now 
be  a  faithful  steward.  After  providing  for  those  of  thine 
own  household  things  needful  for  Afe  and  godliness,  feed 
the  hungry,  clothe  the  naked,  relieve  the  sick,  the  pri- 
soner, the  stranger,  with  all  that  thou  hast.  Then  shall 
God  clothe  thee  with  glory  arid  honour,  in  the  presence  of 
men  and  angels;  and  thou  shalt  "  shine  as  the  brightness 
of  the  firmament,  yea,  as  the  stars  for  ever  and  ever." 

77 


10 


REMARKS  ON  THE 

ITIES  AND  DECENCIES  OF  PUBLIC  WORSHIP, 
Addressed  to  the  Members  of  the  Methodist  Society. 

Dear  brethren  and  sisters  in  the  Lord, 

The  following  e.ttract  from  the  Methodist  Magazine,  for  tho 
year  1809,  is  sincerely  recommended  to  your  consideration. 

IT  is  an  important  truth  which  we  find  in  Ecclesiasti- 
cus,  that  he  who  contemneth  small  things  shall  fall  by  lit- 
tle and  little.  Hence  the  final  apostasy  of  those  who  have 
made  shipwreck  of  faith  and  a  good  conscience,  might  be 
traced  to  such  beginnings  as  many  professors  would  reckon 
too  trifling  to  notice.  Among  evils  of  this  sort,  infringe- 
iftfents  on  the  solemnities  and  decencies  of  public  worship 
may  justly  be  ranked.  These  are  found,  more  or  less, 
among  all  denominations.  How  many  are  there,  who  sel- 
dom or  never  make  it  a  point  to  be  present  at  the  begin- 
ning of  public  service  1  And  who,  coming  in  at  the  time 
of  solemn  prayer,  divert  the  attention  and  disturb  the 
devotion  of  those  who  make  it  a  matter  of  conscience  not 
to  rob  God  of  any  part  of  the  small  portion  of  time  allotted 
for  his  worship  1  Nor  is  it  only  during  the  time  of  prayer, 
that  the  solemnities  and  decencies  of  divine  worship  are 
disturbed  in  some  places ;  but  likewise  during  the  course 
of  the  sermon.  How  often  have  we  seen  young  men 
and  women,  who  ought  to  have  been  taught  modesty  and 
sobriety,  come  into  the  most  conspicuous  parts  of  places 
of  worship ;  and  by  the  foppery  of  their  dress,  as  well  as 
the  levity  of  their  manner,  draw  away  the  attention  of 
hundreds  from  the  sacred  truths  to  which  they  had  been 
listening  1  The  frequency  of  such  conduct,  joined  to  the 
little  horror  which  it  excites,  is  a  sure  proof  that  the  reli- 
gious education  of  youth,  even  among  professors  of  vital 
religion,  is,  in  general,  shamefully  neglected.  The  good 
old  custom  of  heads  of  families  obliging  their  children  and 
servants  to  give  some  account  of  the  sermons  they  had 
heard,  being,  in  general,  laid  aside ;  thousands,  under  a 
gospel  ministry,  grow  up  to  maturity  in  ignorance  of  the 
plan  of  salvation,  and  as  indifferent  to  divine  things,  as  if 
they  had  never  believed  in  the  existence  of  God,  or  of  their 
own  souls. 

77 


11 

The  want  of  punctuality  in  attending  divine  worship, 
will  appear  the  more  inexcusable,  if  we  consider,  that  all 
the  affairs  of  life  not  only  require,  but  also  receive  an  exact 
attention.  And  is  the  worship  of  God  to  be  judged  the 
only  thing  unworthy  of  punctual  attendance  1  And  shall 
such  as  act  as  if  they  so  judged,  imagine  they  have  done 
no  evil  ? 

The  truly  pious,  if  well  instructed,  when  they  come  to 
a  place  of  worship  before  the  divine  service  begins,  go  to 
their  respective  seats ;  and  after  offering  up  a  short  prayer 
to  God,  in  whose  presence  they  consider  themselves,  sit 
down  recollectedly ;  and  either  silently  read  a  portion  of 
the  divine  word,  or  some  devotional  book;  or  meditate  on 
such  subjects  as  tend  to  enable  them,  with  reverence  and 
true  devotion,  to  enter  upon  the  public  offices  of  true  reli- 
gion. But  others ;  a  mixed  multitude,  collected  in  little 
companies,  without  the  church,  continue  to  converse  on  a 
variety  of  subjects,  till  the  very  moment  public  service 
begins.  Hence  the  beginning  of  public  worship  is  disturbed 
by  many  of  those  who  had  sufficient  time  to  be  recollectedly 
in  their  respective  places. 

It  has  been  justly  observed,  that  those  who  receive  much 
profit  under  the  word,  are  not  disposed,  immediately  after, 
to  enter  into  conversation,  but  retire  silently,  engaged  in 
inward  prayer  and  meditation.  Those  who  have  any 
tolerable  knowledge  of  inward  religion  and  human  nature, 
need  not  to  be  told  how  favourable  serious  meditation,  for 
a  few  minutes  after  public  worship,  is,  to  the  fixing  in  the 
memory,  and  imprinting  on  the  heart,  the  truths  that  have 
been  delivered.  They  likewise  know,  that,  several,  after 
being  in.  some  measure  affected  under  the  word,  have,  by 
trifling  conversation,  and  that  immediately  after  public 
worship,  erased  from  their  minds  every  serious  impression. 

Were  the  evils  and  improprieties  which  I  have  briefly 
touched  upon,  banished  from  every  place  in  which  the 
pure  gospel  is  preached,  and  the  solemnity  and  decency 
essential  to  proper  religious  worship,  duly  attended  to; 
pure  religion  would  appear  to  more  advantage  than  it  does 
at  present,  and  spread  with  increasing  rapidity  through 
the  land. 


12 

HYMNS. 

**  Then  they  that  feared  the  Lord,  spake  often  one  to  another ; 
and  the  Lord  hearkened  and  heard  it,"  Mai.  iii,  16. 

1  JESUS,  united  by  thy  fear, 

The  promised  grace  we  claim, 
Who  commune  of  thy  kingdom  here, 

And  dwell  upon  thy  name  : 
Thou  heark'nest  now  to  every  word, 

Thou  dost  thine  ear  incline, 
And  hear'st  the  heart  that  sighs  "  My  LORD, 

"  I  would  be  only  thine  !" 

2  Present  in  our  assemblies  we 

A  hidden  God  adore, 
Lamenting,  till  thy  face  we  see, 

And  trembling  at  thy  power : 
Thou  know'st  our  wants,  thou  read'st  our  fears, 

Who  languish  for  thy  love, 
And  all  our  sad  complaints  and  tears 

Are  register'd  above. 

"  They  shall  be  mine,  saith  the  Lord  of  hosts,  in  that  day  when 
I  make  up  my  jewels,"  Mai.  iii,  17. 

1  ACCORDING  to  thy  faithful  word 

It  then  shall  surely  be, 
Thou  wilt  remember  us,  oh  Lord, 

Who  now  remember  thee ; 
To  seek,  and  challenge  us  for  thine, 

Thou  wilt  from  heaven  come  down, 
And  we  around  thy  hea<l  shall  shine,, 

As  jewels  of  thy  crow:;. 

2  In  tcnderest  pity  to  thine  own, 

Thou  dost  thy  wrath  forbear ; 
Thine  every  servant  is  a  son 

Whom  thou  delight'st  to  spare: 
And  while  our  hearts  are  bow'd  to  thee, 

Thine  easy  yoke  we  prove, 
And  own  it  perfect  liberty 

To  serve  the  God  we  love. 


PUBLISHED    BT    N.    BANGS    AND   J.    EMORY, 

For  the  Tract  Society  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  at  the  Conference 
Office,  14  Crosby-street,  New- York. 


NO.  78. 
CLASS  MEETINGS ; 

WAYS  AND  MEANS  OF  RENDERING  THEM  MORE  ANIMA- 
TING AND  INSTRUCTIVE. 

IT  has  been  found  by  various  and  long  experience,  thai 
meetings  for  Christian  fellowship  are  the  best  cement  of 
religious  society,  and  have  the  happiest  tendency  to  pro- 
mote a  right  understanding,  and  preserve  a  pure  affection, 
among  all  its  members.  When  the  leader  is  properly  quali- 
fied, and  where  the  people  are  lively,  simple,  and  open,  the 
btility  of  these  meetings  has  been  found  to  exceed  every 
thing  which  has  been  advanced  in  their  favour.  It  is  not. 
the  limits  of  a  small  treatise,  but  a  life  of  experience  that 
can  acquaint  us  with  all  their  excellence  and  worth.  On 
the  other  hand,  it  must  be  acknowledged,  that  where  the 
people  are  wanting  in  piety,  simplicity,  and  freedom,  the 
true  end  of  those  social  means  is  wholly  subverted,  and 
the  devotion  rendered  both  tedious  and  unprofitable.  .  I 
shall  therefore  endeavour  to  point  out  the  principal  of  these 
defects,  and  to  prescribe  their  remedies. 

1.  The  leader  should  be  a  man  of  mature  and  sound 
experience,  and  a  strict  observer  of  the  work  of  God  upon 
his  own  soul.     He  should  be  well  acquainted  with  all  thr 
ways  in  which  the  Lord  is  pleased  to  lead  and  try  His 
people,  and  with  the  various  effects  of  grace  upon  men  ot 
different  habits  and  dispositions.     He  should  also  be  well 
acquainted  with  human  nature,  both  in  a  moral  and  reli- 
gious view  ;  with  the  devices  of  Satan  and  the  artful  insi 
nuations  of  carnal  men.     He  that  would  show  others  the 
way  to  heaven,  must  be  thoroughly  acquainted  with  it  him- 
self.    A  maturity  of  wisdom  and  judgment  is  requisite  in 
the  spiritual  mariner,  who  is  charged  to  pilot  the  inesti- 
mable soul  through  the  waves  and  storms,  the  rocks  and 
shoals  of  life,  where  many  have  sunk  or  split. 

On  the  subject  of  coming  close  and  searching  the  heart, 
we  have  an  excellent  fragment  by  the  late  Mr.  C.  PER- 
noN-ET,  which  is  recommended  by  the  Rev.  Mr.  WESLEY. 
It  here  follows  in  his  own  words : 

"  It  is  the  duty  of  leaders, 

"  1.  To  inquire  whether  they  now  .believe  1  now  enjoy 
the  life  of  God?  Whether  they  grow  herein  or  decay  ?  li 
they  decay,  what  is  the  cause  ?  and  what  the  cure  ? 

2.  Whether  they  aim  at  being  wholly  dr voted  to  God, 
«r  would  kcnj>  something  back  T  Whether  thoy  s< 


hand  in  all  that  befalls  them  ?  And  how  they  bear  what 
he  lays  upon  them  ? 

3.  Whether  they  take  up  their  cross  daily  1  Resist  the 
bent  of  nature  1  Oppose  self  love  in  all  its  hidden  forms, 
and  discover  it  through  all  its  disguises  1 

4.  Whether  they  humble,  themselves  in  every  thing  ? 
Are  willing  to  be  blamed  and  despised  for  well  doing  ? 
Account  it  the  greatest  honour  that  Christ  appoints  them 
to  walk  with  himself,  in  paths  that  are  peculiarly  /«'*  own  ? 

5.  Whether  they  can  cordially  love  those  that  despite- 
fully  use  them?  Justify  the  ways  of  God  in  thus  dealing 
with  them  ?  And  in  all  they  suffer,  seek  the  destruction  of 
inward  idolatry  and  impatience  1  How  they  conquer,  self 
will  in  all  its  spiritual  forms  1  See  through  ail  its  disguises, 
seeking  itself,  when  it  pretends  to  seek  nothing  but  the 
glory  of  God  I 

6.  Whether  they  are  simple,  open,  free,  and  without 
reserve  in  speaking  7  And  see  it  their  duty  and  privilege 
so -to  be? 

7.  To  inquire  concerning  prayer,  the  answers  to  prayer, 
faith  in  Christ,  distrust  of  themselves,  consciousness  oi' 
their  own  vileness  and  nothingness? 

8.  How  they  improve  their  talents?  What  zeal   they 
have  for  doing  good  in  all  they  do,  or  suffer,  or  receive 
from  God?  Whether  they  live   above   it,  making  Christ 
their  all,  and  offering  up  to  God  nothing  for  acceptance, 
but  his  life  and  death  ? 

9.  Whether  they  have  a  clear,  full,  abiding  conviction,  ~~~ 
that  without  inward,  complete,  universal  holiness,  no  man 
shall  see  the  Lord  ?  That  Christ  was  sacrificed  for  us, 
that  we  might  be  a  whole  burnt  sacrifice  to  God;  and 
that  having  received  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  will  profit  us 
nothing,  unless  we  steadily  and  uniformly  walk  in  Him." 

As  this  is  a  duty  to  which  I  am  afraid  not  more  than 
half  of  our  leaders  are  equal:  and  as  the  experience  of  an 
individual  will  be  mostly  inadequate  to  enable  him  to 
nidge  and  advise  in  the  numerous  cases  of  a  whole  class. 
ne  should,  by  reading  the  lives  of  good  men,  acquaint 
himself  with  experience  in  general.  The  Metfiodist 
Magazine  is  admirably  adapted  .to  furnish  the  mind  with 
this  kind  of  knowledge,  After  he  is  well  informed  con- 
'fcerriing  these  writings,  he  may  safely  proceed  to  the  expe- 
rience of  Christians  of  other  denominations,  and  be  capa- 
ble to  judge  of  their  comparative  merit.  In  readingf 

V    *' 


Christian  experience,  he  should  particularly  remark  their 
distresses,  trials,  and  temptations,  and  the  manner  of  their 
deliverance;  where  they  erred,  and  where  they  are  worthy 
of  imitation.  But  especially,  he  should  be  conversant  in 
the  Holy  Scriptures.  The  precepts,  promises,  threaten* 
ings,  and  the  occasions  on  which  they  were  given,  he 
should  clearly  understand  and  familiarly  remember.  He 
will  then  comfort  according  to  the  fulness  of  the  gospel, 
or  caution  with  prudence  and  authority.  He  will' restore 
the  fallen,  instruct  the  ignorant,  and  strengthen  the  weak. 
He  will  consider  the  class  as  his  spiritual  family,  and  next 
to  their  immediate  pastors,  be  their  dearest  friend  on  earth, 

II.  It  is  requisite  also,  that  the  people  be  open,  lively, 
and  affectionate.  And,  indeed,  a  profession  of  religion 
without  the  life  and  love  of  God  in  our  heart,  is  a  poor 
and  empty  thing.  As  it  is  the  nature  and  design  of 
Christianity  to  purify  the  soul  from  sin,  and  restore  it  to 
the  image  and  favour  of  its  Maker,  we  should  on  no 
account  fall  short  of  the  hope  of  our  calling.  The  gain 
of  the  whole  world  is  insufficient  to  compensate  for  the 
loss  of  one  smile  from  our  heavenly  Father.  Whatever 
company  or  affairs  we  are  engaged  with,  we  should  be 
careful  to  maintain  communion  with  God ;  that  we  may 
"  rejoice  evermore,  pray  without  ceasing,  and  in  every 
thing  give  thanks ;"  that  the  great  law  of  the  new  cove- 
nant may  be  written  on  our  hearts,  "  I  will  be  your  God, 
and  ye  shall  be  my  people." 

Those  who  live,  or  endeavour  to  live  in  this  happy  state, 
have  always  something  to  speak  in  their  class,  which  is 
animating  and  instructive,  and  the  people  hang  upon  their 
lips  for  edification  and  comfort.  By  living  in  the  divine 
presence  they  acquire  a  calmness  and  composure  of  mind. 
which  raise  them  above  the  fear  of  man,  and  above  the 
hurry  and  flutter  which  the  timid  often  find  in  speaking. 
They  relate  the  blessed  opportunities  they  have  had  in 
public  or  private  devotion,  their  temptations  and  trials, 
their  faults  and  comforts,  with  all  that  case  and  freedom 
which  mark  an  humble  and  devoted  mind.  They  never 
make  the  meeting  tedious  and  dull  by  a  repetition  of  the 
same  things  from  week  to  week  :  by  using  little  else  but 
common  place  terms,  or  affecting  the  style  and  manner  of 
others.  To  do  so  is  sure  to  produce  an  unpleasant  effect, 
and  indicates  the  soul  to  be  in  a  slothful  and  lukewarm 
state ;  or  that  what  we  say  is  not  our  own,  but  Iw 


from  others.  Their  experience  is  always  interesting,  origi- 
nal, and  new;  because  it  is  impossible  the  Lord  should 
forget  them  for  a  whole  week,  or  even  for  a  single  moment : 
and  the  reputation  and  respect  they  acquire  among  their 
brethren,  is  that  of  fathers  and  pillars  in  the  church  of  God. 

III.  Though  this  be  the  privilege  of  all  the  children  of 
God  ;  yet  it  is  enjoyed  by  a  very  few  only.     Many  of  those 
that  once  ran  well  have  fallen  from  their  steadfastness, 
and  left  their  first  love.     It  is  true,  at  intervals  they  still 
enjoy  the  favour  and  smiles  of  God ;  but  in  the  general, 
their  hearts  are  so  engrossed  with  the  snares  of  company, 
and  the  cares  of  this  life,  as  to  have  little  time  for  recol- 
lection and  prayer.     While  all  is  prosperous  in  their  affairs, 
and   pleasing  in  their  connections,   they  are  social  and 
amiable  in  their  tempers  ;   but  when  their  will  is  opposed, 
and  their  wishes  are  thwarted,  they  are:  angry,  peevish, 
and  fretful  as  other  men,  and  the  difference  between  their 
present  and  their  unconverted  state,  is  far  from  being  so 
great  as  might  have  been  expected.     Thus  they  bear  the 
crosses,  and  endure  the  fatigues  of  religion,  without  re- 
ceiving any  lasting  sense  of  its  comfort  and  peace. 

Some  of  these  are  endowed  with  humility  enough  to 
relate  the  whole  of  their  state,  and  aim  at  nothing  in 
speaking,  but  to  give  others  the  same  ideas  of  their  expe- 
rience which  they  themselves  entertain.  They  complain 
of  their  depravity  and  temptations  without  reserve ;  and 
freely  acknowledge  that  all  their  supineness  and  sterility 
do  not  originate  through  the  want  of  grace,  but  from  the 
neglect  of  using  it.  Now,  though  we  are  under  the 
necessity  of  warning  them  against  resting  here,  lest  God 
should  suffer  them  to  fall  into  greater  sins ;  yet  we  cannot, 
but  a-dmire  their  honesty  in  drawing  so  just  a  portrait  of 
their  own  heart.  As  the  voice  of  nature  and  truth  is 
known  when  it  is  heard ;  and  as  little  children  win  their 
parents'  affections  by  their  artless  tales,  so  are  we  always 
delighted  when  we  hear  a  real  and  original  account  of  a 
brother's  experience.  It  is  valuable  information  to  be 
acquainted  with  the  nature  and  strength  of  our  adversa- 
ries ;  and  to  view  in  the  wrestlings  and  conflicts  of  so 
many  people,  what  every  Christian  is  to  expect,  not  only 
with  flesh  and  blood,  but  with  the  principalities  and 
powers  of  darkness. 

IV.  It  is  fear  and  shame,  pride  and  temptation,  which 
obstruct  the  freedom  of  many  who  find  themselves  in  a 

73 


cold  and  lukewarm  state.  Because  they  cannot  speak  as 
favourably  of  their  state  as  they  would,  they  are  unwilling 
to  sj>eak  at  all,  or  when  they  do,  it  is  mostly  in  negatives 
and  evasions.  Take  the  following  as  a  specimen, — "  I 
don't  find  my  mind  as  I  could  wish — I  am  not  going  for- 
ward and  making  that  progress  in  the  divine  life  which  I 
ought  to  do."  All  this  is  undoubtedly  true ;  and  yet,  to 
put  the  fairest  construction  upon  it,  it  is  but  one  degree 
better  than  total  silence ;  for  we  can  neither  edify  by 
hearing  what  they  say,  nor  give  them  just  and  proper 
advice.  Others,  again,  either  through  habit,  depression 
of  mind,  or  false  delicacy,  speak  so  low  as  not  to  be  heard, 
which  occasions  extreme  pain  to  all  the  class,  and  utterly 
frustrates  the  design  of  the  meeting.  They  should  by 
all  means  endeavour  to  speak  here,  iu  the  same  clear  and 
distinct  manner  as  they  do  in  ordinary  conversation. 

It  were,  indeed,  much  to  be  wished,  that  all  who  find 
their  evidence  beclouded,  or  their  comforts  withdrawn, 
would  be  more  diligent  to  inquire  into  the  several  causes, 
and  more  ingenuous  in  making  them  known.  Should  the 
Holy  Spirit  withdraw  his  comforts  or  hide  his  face,  it  irf 
for  some  apparent  cause.  We  must  have  grieved  him, 
either  by  unbelieving  reasonings  and  fears,  which  bring 
darkness  and  disquietude  on  the  mind,  though  not  a  sense 
of  guilt;  by  wicked  and  evil  tempers,  which  are  ever 
attended  with  shame  and  remorse ;  or  by  vain  and  wan- 
dering thoughts,  which  deprive  us  of  all  communion  with 
God,  and  evince  our  hearts  to  be  the  wretched  source  of 
all  imaginary  folly  and  vice.  It  evidences  a  lar-t 
of  wisdom  when  we  are  able  to  trace  distinctly  th. 
causes  of  our  desertion,  and  an  equal  degn 
when  we  are  as  willing  to  communicate  them  for'we  good 
of  others. 

When  Satan  has  tempted  us  to  any  particular  sin,  or 
overcome  us  by  any  of  the  aforesaid  evils,  he  tempts  us 
also  to  conceal  it;  because  he  is  well  aware  that  the  works 
of  darkness  are  unable  to  bear  the  light,  and  that  speaking 
of  our  temptations  is  the  surest  way  to  subdue  them,  lie 
suggests  tjiat  our  distresses  are  more  deplorable,  and  our 
sins  more  heinous,  than  those  of  other  men ;  that  if  we 
discover  the  whole  of  our  unfaithfulness,  we  shall  be  con- 
sidered as  unfit  for  religious  society.  And  every  man 
being  better  acquainted  with  his  own  heart  than  with  any 
other,  we  are  but  too  apt  to  believe  him.  Thus  it  in  partly 


through  temptation,  and  partly  through  the  prevalence  of 
haughty  reasoning,  that  people  are  so  frequently  induced 
to  give  an  unfair  and  partial  account  of  tiieir  experience. 
They  speak  freely  enough  of  the  goodness  and  mercy  of 
God  ;  but  they  hide,  or  merely  hint  in  a  dark  and  obscure 
manner,  whatever  is  disagreeable  and  worthy  of  blame  j 
and  their  weekly  testimony  amounts  to  no  more  than  an 
illusive  fragment,  instead  of  a  plain  and  just  account. 

V.  When  the  leader  perceives  this  to  be  the  case,  he 
should  in  a  tender  and  prudent  way,  press  them  to  speak 
with  more  freedom,  and  give  a  clearer  account  of  their 
experience.     He  should  instruct  them  better  concerning 
the  duties  of  union  and  fellowship,  which  are  mutually 
owed  in  the  church  of  God:  that  we  ought  to  afford  every 
help  to  one  another,  which  man  can  gi\re  to  man.     In  a 
society,  which  is  numerous,  we  cannot  be  intimate  and 
acquainted  with  all.     It  is  farther  remarked,  that  as  the 
conversation  is  confined  to  the  state  of  the  soul,  and  no 
one  allowed  to  divulge  it  elsewhere;  as  nothing  is  said 
with  regard  to  family  or  private  concerns,  there  can  be  no 
just  cause  for  our  restraint  and  want  of  freedom.     If  we 
suffer  from  delicate  circumstances,  we  may  speak  of  being 
tried  without  entering  into  particulars,  and  the  brethren 
will  feelingly  pray  for  our  deliverance  and  comfort.     But 
if  we  have  backslidden  in  heart,  if  we  are  tempted  by 
Satan,  or  tried  by  our  inward  corruptions,  it  ought  to  be 
communicated  without  evasion  and  without  reserve. 

VI.  It  may  here  be  observed,  that  many  very  serious 
people  are  unable  to  speak  their  experience  with  the  same 
case  and  freedom,  as  those  who  are  endowed  with  a  better 
elocution.     And  it  ought  to  be  observed  for  their  comfort. 
that  it  is  simplicity  and  truth,  not  studied  speech  we  expect 
in  the  class.     We  expect  to  hear  what  God  hath  done  for- 
their  souls,  and  to  hear  it  in  a  plain  and  unstudied  manner 
Perhaps  none   succeed  better  in  speaking  their  experi- 
ence than  colliers  and  other  illiterate  people  who  live  in 
the  country  villages.     As  few  of  those  could  read  before 
their  conversion ;  and  as  they  are  unacquainted  with  the 
ordinary  phrases  and  language  in  which  more  intelligent 
Christians  speak ;    their  manner  is  altogether    new  and 
peculiar  to  themselves.     They  relate  as  well  as  they  can, 
the  sinfulness  and  misery  of  their  former  lives ;  how  they 
heard,  and  how  they  received  the  gospel ;  what  they  suf- 
fered under  "conviction  for  sin  :  how  the  promises  were 


applied,  and  the  love  of  God  shed  abroad  in  their  .. 
Their  manner  is  distinguished  by  a  certain  boldness  which 
strongly  evinces  that  they  feel  what  they  speak.  And  thr 
whole  of  their  narrative  is  so  ingenuous  and  incapable  o!' 
art,  as  cannot  fail  to  interest  arid  entertain  the  most 
enlightened  believer. 

Moreover,  they  furnish  us  with  a  decisive  argument  in 
favour  of  vital  Christianity.  Would  we  discover  its  native 
beauty  and  power ;  would  we  triumph  over  skepticism, 
and  be  completely  established  in  the  faith,  let  us  go  to  the 
school  of  these  innocent  people,  who  are  taught  of  God. 
They  know  nothing  of  the  learned  arguments  by  which 
we  prove  the  authenticity  of  the  Scriptures;  but  they  know 
that  they  are  true,  because  they  have  felt  the  force  of  the 
threatenings,  and  tasted  the  sweetness  of  the  promises  : 
they  cannot  vindicate  the  miracles  and  defend  the  god- 
head of  Christ ;  but  they  know  that  he  is  glorified  with 
the  Father,  because  he  has  given  them  the  Comforter. — 
They  cannot  contend  for  the  divine  authority  of  the 
Christian  faith ;  but  they  know  that  it  is  from  Heaven, 
because  he  hath  raised  their  souls  from  a  sensual  life,  and 
ennobled  them  with  the  image  and  presence  of  God. 

To  conclude,  as  mutual  communion  lays  open  a  \vor!d 
of  experience,  and  displays  the  kingdom  of  God  in  the 
heart ;  few  objections  will  be  made  against  it  by  serious 
people,  but  such  as  are  obviated  in  the  course  of  the 
work;  and  the  objections  of  carnal  professors  are  avowedly 
neglected.  This  is  not  the  cane,  I  am  sorry  to  add,  with 
the  members  of  those  meetings  Serious  or  supposed 
objections  are  frequently  made  against  some  of  their  moral 
characters.  But  happily,  where  discipline  is  preserve/!, 
they  are  not  too  great  for  charity  to  forgive,  or  candour  to 
surmount.  Because,  all  who  obstinately  offend  are  put 
away,  and  those  that  are  penitent  we  are  enjoined  to  for- 
give, under  the  penalty  of  not  being  forgiven.  Tho>c, 
who  are  little  more  than  theorists  in  a  life  of  practical 
piety,  promise  themselves,  that  whenever  they  unite  with 
a  religious  body,  their  piety  shall  be  sincere,  and  their 
characters  irreproachable  :  but  whether  their  performance 
will  equal  their  promises,  time  alone  can  determine. — 
When  they  review  the  amiable  example  of  Jesus  Christ. 
as  holy,  harmless,  undefiled,  and  separate  from  sinners  ; 
who  hath  left  us  an  example,  that  we  should  tread  in  hi.-: 
gten?,  and  walk  as  lie  alrfi  vil^d ;  when  they  consider 


8 

the  purity  and  love  of  the  primitive  church  ;  the  heroic 
failh  of  the  fathers  and  elders,  confessors  and  martyrs, 
who  preferred  death  to  a  life  spotted  by  a  single  sin  > 
they  lose  all  patience  with  modern  Christians  whose  piety 
is  defective.  Maturer  reflection  will,  however,  convince 
them,  that  it  is  unfair  to  judge  of  the  ancients  by  their 
splendid  virtue,  and  of  the  moderns  by  their  numerous 
faults.  The  primitive  church,  as  well  as  the  present, 
laboured  under  many  disagreeable  circumstances,  which 
were  causes  of  offence  and  stumbling  to  many,  and  of 
heresy  and  schism  to  others.  It  is  much  nearer  the  truth 
to  view  the  religious  world  in  the  middle  state,  by  con- 
sidering what  they  were  before  they  were  called,  and  what 
they  will  be  at  God's  right  hand,  \\~\\enprescntcd faultless 
/n'CKcnce  cf  his  glory,  with  exceeding  joy.  In 
their  present  state,  many  are  but  half  convinced  of  sin, 
o:hers  have  not  received  a  sense  of  pardon  and  peace. 
Many  who  have  been  converted  are  weak  and  unsteady; 
and  the  number  ef  those  who  enjoy  the  pure  and  perfect 
love  of  God,  is  extremely  few.  What,  therefore,  can  be 
expected  but  frequent  falls  and  hard  conflicts  from  a  pco- 
pie  who  are  but.  just  rising  out  of  their  sinful  and  misera- 
ble state,  into  the  life  and  image  of  God.  ft  is  verily  the 
duty  of  all  tserious  people  to  unite  with  some  religious 
connection,  notwithstanding  its  defects ;  and  if  they  are 
possessed  of  superior  wisdom  or  talent,  to  employ  the 
whole  for  the  edifying  of  the  body.  Jesus  Christ  hath 
set  them  an  example,  and  they  cannot  find  a  better  mode!. 
I  beseech  all  such,  by  the  worth  of  their  souls,  and  the 
price  of  their  salvation,  cordially  to  unite  in  church  fel- 
lowship, and  in  the  use  of  every  mean  of  grace.  It  is  a 
divine  command,  and  if  we  neglect  or  refuse  to  comply, 
we  cannot  expect  that  God  will  give  us  grace  to  be  warm 
alone,  or  singly  to  stand  against  the  combinations  of  our 
foes.  It  is  far  better  to  draw  a  veil  over  the  brethren's 
infirmities,  or  like  the  good  Samaritan,  to  pour  oil  into 
\heir  wounds,  than  barely  to  look  on  and  pass  by  as  the 
Levite  and  priest.  "  Blessed  is  that  servant  whom  his 
Lord,  when  he  cometh,  shall  find  so  doing.;  verily  I  say 
unto  you,  he  will  make  him  ruler  over  all  that  he  hath." 

PUBLISHED    BY    N.    BANGS    AND    3.    EMORT. 

For  the  TVact  Society  of  ()>e  Methodist  Episcopal  Church.'a 
Office,  14  Crosby-street,  New-York. 


NO.  79. 


FRANCIS'  DREAM. 

BY   JAKE    TAYLOR. 

IN  one  corner  of  a  dark  warehouse,  at  the  back  of  a 
dark  house,  in  the  midst  of  a  dark  street  in  London,  a 
little  apprentice  boy  one  day  seated  himself  on  a  bale  of 
dusty  goods,  and  fell  asleep.  Poor  Francis  (that  was  his 
name)  was  not  at  this  time  very  happy  in  his  mind; — 
though,  had  he  known  a  little  more  of  life,  he  would  have 
seen'much  greater  reason  to  be  contented  with  his  cir- 
cumstances Than  he  now  did.  He  had  been  brought  up, 
in  the  country,  perhaps  too  tenderly,  by  a  very  fond  mo- 
ther, a  widow-  She  died— and  then  he  was  bound  ap- 
prentice, by  the  assistance  of  his  relations,  to  a  tradesman. 
Francis  fancied  he  was  treated  with  little  kindness  m  liis 
master's  family :  perhaps  this  partly  arose  from  his  igno- 
rance of  the  world,  arid  mistaken  ideas  of  what  may  rea- 
sonably be  expected  from  those  we  have  to  do  with.  Being 
quite  unaccustomed  to  the  prompt  and  brisk  d*»patcfi  of 
London  business,  he  felt,  at  first,  bewildered  and  discour- 
aged bv  the  smart  orders  he  received,  and  the  Mnct  atten- 
tion to  them  that  was  required;  and  he  saw  no  one  around 
him  whose  counsel  he  could  ask,  much  ess  whose  sympa- 
thy he  could  invite;  for  he  was  but  a  little  boy  an.1  the 
tail  laos  and  smart  young  men  who  brushed  past  him  hfty 
ti-nc-  ••  in  a  day  up  and  down  the  long  shop,  took  no  other 
notice  of  Francis  than  scolding  him  when  they  wen.  cross, 
and  lauding  at  him  when  they  were  merry.  It  was  01 


afternoon,  after  having  been  employed  all  the  preceding 
part  of  the  day  in  the  warehouse,  that  Francis,  fatigued 
and  melancholy,  fell  asleep,  as  before  related.  Joy  and 
hope  keep  youthful  eye  lids  open,  but  the  disquieted  yield 
readily  to  sleep. 

Francis'  dream  in  the  earlier  part  of  it,  was  (like  dreams 
in  general)  too  indistinct  and  unconnected  to  be  at  all 
worthy  of  record;  but  it  gradually  became  more  rational, 
and  as  well  as  he  can  remember,  it  was  to  this  effect: — 
He  thought  that  he  was  to  leave  the  warehouse ;  but  upon 
entering  the  long  passage  that  led  to  the  front  of  the 
house,  it  appeared  so  unusually  dark  that  he  shrunk  back, 
and  would  have  returned,  but  something  compelled  him 
to  proceed.     At  every  step  he  thought  the  darkness  in- 
creased, and  the  passage  became  so  extremely  narrow 
that  he  could  with  difficulty  creep  along  upon  his  hands 
and  knees.     It  was  also  exceedingly  cold,  and  Francis 
experienced  a  horror  altogether  indescribable.     The  pas- 
sage too  seemed  to  lengthen  as  he  proceeded,  and  he 
began  to  despair  of  reaching  the  end,  when  a  dim  and 
distant  light  suddenly  discovered  it  to  hjm.     As  he  ad- 
vanced he  found  that  the  light  proceeded  from  the  crevices 
of  the  door  at  the  end  of  the  passage  :  and  it  now  seemed 
as  if  the  apartment  within  must  be  illumined  with  some- 
thing brighter  than  sun  beams.    When  at  length  he  reach- 
ed the  door,  he  perceived  that  it  was  fastened  with  bars 
of  massy  iron,  and  exhausted  as  he  was,  he  despaired  of 
being  able  to  force  it  open ;  but  to  his  great  and  joyful 
surprise,  it  gently  unfolded  itself,  and  he  entered.     And 
now  instead  of  the  dull  apartment  he  was  accustomed  to 
see,  he  found  himself  at  the  extremity  of  a  widely  extend- 
ed lawn,  from  which  arose  a  spacious  and  magnificent 
palace.     Noble  avenues — spicy  groves — beds  of  flowers, 
and  bowers  of  roses — cooling  rivulets,  and  sparkling  cas- 
cades— all  shining  beneath  a  cloudless  sky,  presented 
themselves  to  his  delighted  view.     While  he  was  gazing 
on  this  agreeable  scene,  several  persons  of  extraordinary 
grace  and  beauty,  respectfully  approached  him,  and  with 
smiles  of  complacency  informed  him  that  he  was  the  sole-- 
proprietor of  this  fine  estate ;  whereupon  they  conducted 
him  to  the  interior  of  the  palace,  which  appeared  furnish- 
ed with  every  thing  to  gratify  his  utmost  wishes;   and 
where  he  found  himself  surrounded  with  a  chosen  circle 

79 


of  intelligent  and  affectionate  friends,  who  vied  with  each 
other  in  promoting  his  ease  and  felicity.  But-there  was 
something  beside  all  this,  which  it  is  impossible  for  lan- 
guage to  express.  Over  the  scenery  of  a  pleasing  dream 
there  is  spread  a  rich  glow  of  colouring,  an  air  of  enchant- 
ment, so  unlike  the  tints  and  aspect  of  this  world,  that 
they  seem  as  if  designed  to  form  a  contrast  with  the  dul- 
ness  of  the  brightest  reality.  Dreams  represent  things 
pieseni,  as  hope  does  the  future,  and  memory  the  past. — 
Such  Francis  now  beheld :  it  was  enchanted  ground ;  sur- 
passing even  the  visions  of  youthful  fancy.  The  radiant 
suushine,  the  richness  of  the  extended  prospect,  the  hills 
of  pearl  and  gold  that  glowed  in  the  distance,  the  oriental 
magnificence  of  the  palace, — above  all,  the  refined  and 
romantic  intercourse  he  enjoyed  with  his  companions, 
excited  in  his  bosom  thrills  of  indescribable  ecstacy.  A 
milk  white  steed  richly  caparisoned,  was  now  led  up,  oa 
which  he  was  about  to  survey  the  distant  parts  of  his 
estate;  but  which  in  the  tantalizing  spirit  of  a  dream,  he 
made  repeated  and  ineffectual  efforts  to  mount :  with  his 
foot  in  the  stirrup,  and  no  visible  impediment,  something 
constantly  retarded  him  as  often  as  he  endeavoured  to 
rise. — At  length,  just  as  he  wa?  resolving  to  give  one  ef- 
fectual spring, — the  rattling  of  a  mail  coach  that  drove 
furiously  through  a  narrow  street,  with  the  piercing  notes 
of  the  guards'  horn,  suddenly  awaked  him, — and  it  being 
now  dark,  the  lamps  flashing  as  they  passed,  on  the  ceil- 
ing and  lumber  of  the  warehouse,  perfectly  restored  him 
to  his  recollection.  Who  has  not  experienced  the  blank- 
ness  of  awaking  from  a  dream  of  ecstacy,  to  the  dull  real- 
ity of  present  circumstances  1  No  wonder  that  Francis 
returned  to  hie-  employments  with  a  deeper  feeling  of  the 
joylcssness  of  his  situation.  For  several  days  the  impres- 
sion of  his  dream  remained  so  strongly  on  his  imagination, 
that  he  began  to  think  it  must  be  interpreted  in  favour  of 
his  future  fortune. 

There  was  an  old  porter,  called  Stephen,  much  esteem- 
ed for  his  sobriety  and  fidelity,  who  had  served  many  years 
in  this  business.  His  good  natured  look,  and  obliging 
manner,  often  attracted  the  attention  of  Francis;  and 
happening  one  day  soon  after  this  to  be  sent  to  him  oa 
some  business  in  the  cellars,  where  Stephen  was  generally 
employed,  he  entered  into  conversation  with  him ;  and  in 


hopes  of  a  flattering  interpretation,  presently  related  his 

dream. 

.    "  Well,  master  Francis,"  said  the  old  porter,  when  he 

had  finished,  "  there  is  nothing  in  all  this  but  what  you 

may  one  day  come  to,  if  you  do  but  go  the  right  way  to 

work  for  it." 

"  Indeed !  are  you  in  earnest  ?"  said  Francis,  "  Ah  !  I 
suppose  you  think  I  have  rich  relations:  but  do  you  know 
my  old  friend,  (for  I  don't  mind  speaking  to  you,  because 
you  look  good  natured,)  that  though  I  am  apprenticed  to 
this  great  business,  I  am  but  a  poor  boy ;  for  I  have  no 
father,  nor  mother  neither,  now ;  nor  any  fortune  of  my 
own, — so  that  it  is  very  unlikely,  is  it  not,  that  I  should 
ever  come  to  a  fine  estate  ?" 

"  Not  more  unlikely  than  that  I  should,"  replied  the 
porter,  "  and  do  you  know,  young  master,  I  have  good 
expectations  of  as  great  things,  and  greater  too,  than  any 
you  saw  in  your  dream." 

Here  Francis  expressed  his  surprise ;  and  with  a  look 
of  incredulity  requested  an  explanation.  Whereupon  the 
old  porter  said  thtvt  if  he  would  not  believe  him,  h«?  would 
show  him  the  title  deeds  of  his  estate ;  and  reaching  an 
old  brown  book  from  a  shelf  where  he  always  kept  it,  and 
putting  on  his  spectacles,  he  presently  pointed  Francis  to 
a  part  which  he  desired -him  to  read.  The  words  were 
these  :  "  In  my  Father's  house  are  many  mansions  ;  I  go 
to  prepare  a  place  for  you." 

"Dear !"  said  Francis,  "  that  is  only  a  text  in  the  Bible: 
do  you  think  I  never  read  that  before  1  you  are  joking 
with  me,  I  fancy." 

"  Oh  no,  my  dear,  I  am  quite  serious,"  said  the  porter, 
"and  if  you, will  have  patience  to  hear  me,  I'll  tell  you 
what  I  mean.  I  was  but  a  lad,  very  little  older  than  yon 
are,  when  it  pleased  God  to  convince  me  that  if  I  should 
gain  the  whole  world,  and  lose  my  soul,  it  would  profit  me 
nothing.  I  saw  that  it  would  be  the  most  imprudent,  dan- 
gerous, and  desperate  conduct,  to  enjoy  any  peace  in  this 
world,  until  I  had  a  well  founded  hope  of  being  happy  to 
all  eternity.  And  I  wondered  much,  (and  so  I  do  still,) 
that  all  reasonable  persons  did  not  think  the  same.  So 
after  suffering  a  great  deal  of  pain  and  trouble  of  mind,  I 
was  at  last  convinced  that  as  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  came 
into  the  world  to  save  sinners,  and  as  he  commands  every 

79 


one  who  hears  of  it  to  believe  this  and  be  saved, — that  I, 
a  poor  unworthy  lad  as  I  was,  might  come  to  him,  and 
that  he  would  not  cast  me  out.  So  I  believed  that  he 
would  save  me  from  my  sins,  and  that  he  would  give  me, 
yes,  even  to  me,  everlasting  life.  Oh !  it  is  a  wonderful 
thing !  bat  as  God  has  promised  it,  who  am  I  that  I  should 
dare  to  doubt  it?  Well,  sir,  from  that  time  to  this,  I  have 
gone  on  my  way  rejoicing.  It  is  true  I  have  had  to  work 
hard,  and  sometimes  to  fare  hard,  year  after  year;  and  as 
to  the  groat  things  of  this  world,  I  have  had  nothing  to  do 
with  them  :  but  then,  I  often  think  to  myself,  when  I  am 
at  work  in  this  cellar,  and  hear  the  chariots  rolling  away 
in  the  street  above,  What  does  that  signify?  It  is  but 
waiting  a  few  years,  and,  if  I  do  but  persevere  in  the  good 
ways  of  God,  what  great  things  will  be  mine  !  Why,  sir, 
God  himself  hath  assured  us,  that  there  is  nothing  in  this 
world  to  be  compared  with  what  is  preparing  for  them 
that  love  him.  Think  what  one  of  these  mansions  will 
be,  that  Jesus  is  gone  to  make  ready :  and,  to  refer  to  the 
similitude  of  your  dream,  there  is  but  one  dark  and  cold 
passage  to  pass  before  I  enter  on  my  heavenly  inherit- 
ance. Oh !  master  Francis,  never  be  fretting  yourself 
because  you  are  not  likely  to  come  to  such  a  fine  estate, 
in  this  world,  as  you  saw  in  your  dream ;  but  rejoice  to 
think  that  there  is  something  beyond  all  compare  better, 
God  will  give  you,  if  you  do  but  ask, him  for  it;  and  for- 
asmuch as  there  was  that,  so  rare  and  beautiful,  in  the 
things  you  beheld,  as  you  can  in  no  wise  express ;  so  it 
seems  to  me  to  set  forth  something  of  that  glory  of  which 
the  Scripture  saith,  that  « eye  hath  not  seen  it,  nor  ear 
heard,  neither  can  the  heart  of  man  conceive  thereof.' " 

Now,  as  Francis  had  not  been  in  the  habit  of  hearing 
much  on  the  subject  of  religion,  he  was  the  more  struck 
with  this  discourse  of  the  old  porter.  Especially  he  no- 
ticed the  lively  joy  that  he  manifested  in  his  look  and 
manner,  at  the  prospect  of  future  happiness :  for  it  was 
not  mere  talk  with  this  good  man  :  he  really  felt  the  un- 
speakable joy,  arising  from  a  good  hope  of  his  soon  being 
in  heaven.  And  he  was.  most  sincere  in  saying,  that  he  ac- 
counted all  the  good  and  great  things  of  this  world,  as  less 
than  nothing  in  comparison  of  "  an  eternal  weight  of  glory :" 
and  oh,  how  strange,  that  every  one  is  not  of  his  opinion ! 

Francis  and  his  old  frierM  had  many  conversations 


after  this,  on  the  same  subject.  Well  would  it  be 
refined  and  high  discourse  were  more  frequently  held  in 
splendid  drawing  rooms,  as  that  which  often  passed  in  the 
dark  cellar.  The  result  was  unspeakably  advantageous 
to  young  Francis.  His  mind  was  relieved  from  a  weight 
of  anxiety  ;  and  his  spirits  rose  above  their  depression,  as 
soon  as  he  began  to  perceive  that  his  real  and  ultimate 
happiness  did  not  in  the  least  depend  on  his  condition  in 
this  world,  or  on  any  of  its  contingencies.  He  reflected 
with  sensations  of  almost  overwhelming  delight,  that 
boundless,  endless,  and  even  present  felicity,  was  freely 
offered  to  his  choice  in  the  good  news  of  the  gospel. — 
And  as,  (most  happily  for  him,)  he  had  no  "  great  posses- 
sions" to  distract  his  choice,  he  did  not  "  turn  away  sor- 
rowful ;"  but  joyfully,  thankfully,  accepted  of  LIFE  and 
HAPPINESS.  Thus  without  fertune,  without  friends,  with- 
out any  of  those  things  which  are  sought  after  with  such 
unceasing  avidity,  by  the  men,  and  women,  and  children 
of  this  world, — and  to  the  attainment  of  which  such  tre- 
mendous sacrifices  are  made, — this  happy  young  person 
found  himself  possessed  of  all  wealth  in  the  unsearchable 
riches  of  Christ. 

PLEASING  ACCOUNT  OF  A  GIRL  WHO  WAS   A   SCHOLAR  IN 
THE   MAZE   POND   SUNDAY  SCHOOL. 

WHEN  I  was  at  Worthing,  a  short  time  since,  I  was  re- 
quested to  go  and  see  a  pious  young  woman,  whose  afflicted 
situation  had  excited  much  commiseration.  She  had,  it 
seems,  through  the  brutal  conduct  of  a  mistress  with  whom 
she  lived,  been  rendered  not  only  incapable  of  labour,  but 
unable  either  to  stand  or  sit;  a  blow  which  she  had  re- 
ceived on  the  back  had  so  injured  the  spine,  as  to  render 
it  necessary  to  keep  her  in  a  horizontal  posture,  and  in 
that  very  affecting  situation  she  has  been  more  than  six 
years.  I  was  accompanied  by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Watkins,  the 
rector  of  St.  Swithin's,  London  Stone,  who  had  often  seen 
her  before ;  we  found  her  in  a  very  happy  frame  of  miud, 
and  enjoying  much  of  the  consolation  to  be  derived  only 
from  the  gospel ;  it  was  evident  that  she  had  been  taught 
by  the  Holy  Spirit  to  know  the  things  that  belong  to  her 
peace,  and, to  rejoice  in  Christ  as  her  Saviour — what  sur- 
prised me  most  was  the  enlarged  acquaintance  which  she 
had  \v  ;th  the  Scriptures ;  ^think  I  scarcely  ever  met  with 


«o  young  a  person  (for  she  was  only  twenty  one  or  twenty 
two)  who  possessed  so  much  Bible  knowledge  :  I  confess 
my  mind  was  edified  and  delighted,  and  encournge.d  by 
what  I  heard  from  her  lips.  In  the  course  of  the  con- 
versation which  I  had  with  her,  I  inquired  how  her  mind 
first  became  impressed  with  the  importance  of  religion ; 
when  she  informed  me  that  her  first  religious  impressions 
•were  received  in  a  Sunday  school  in  London. 

I  theri  asked  in  what  manner ;  to  this  she  replied,  that 
many  of  the  hymns  which  she  learnt  there  were  fixed  in 
her  memory,  and  were  of  great  advantage  to  her,  and  the 
advice  of  the  teachers,  and  especially  of  one  of  the  gen- 
tlemen who  used  to  come  and  speak  to  the  children  in  the 
evening:  "  I  was  not  long  in  the  school,"  she  said,  "only 
six  or  eight  months,  but  when  I  left  it,  this  impression  was 
fixed  on  my  mind,  that  there  were  but  two  classes  of  per- 
sons in  the  world ;  those  who  were  the  friends  of  God, 
and  those  who  were  his  enemies;  and  I  was  led  to  put  up 
this  prayer  to  the  Lord,  that  he  would  show  me  the  way 
of  salvation,  and  bring  me  into  the  number  of  his  friends." 

Having  myself  a  knowledge  of  some  of  the  persons  con- 
nected with  the  scliool  to  which  she  referred,  I  asked  her 
if  she  could  tell  mo  the  names  of  those  who  were  e 
as  teachers  in  the  school  when  she  belonged  to  it ;  she 
replied,  "It  is  so  long  ago  (about  eight  years)  that  I  can't 
recollect  the  names  of  all,  but  there  are  two  that  I  remem- 
ber, one  female  and  one  male  teacher;"  of  these  two  indi- 
viduals she  spoke  with  great  feeling.  It  will  be  gratifying 
to  you  to  know  that  the  school  was  no  other  than  Maze 
Pond  School. 


SCENES   OF   THE   CRUCIFIXION. 

The  moon  was  shining  yet.     The  Orient's  brow, 

Set  with  the  morning  star  was  not  yet  dim  ; 

And  the  deep  silence  which  subdues  the  breath 

Like  a  strong  feeling,  hung  upon  the  world 

As  sleep  upon  the  pulses  of  a  child. 

'Twas  the  last  watch  of  night.     Gethst  mane, 

With  its  bathed  leaves  of  silver,  seemed  dissolved 

In  visible  stillness,  and  as  Jesus'  voice, 

With  its  bewildering  sweetness,  met  the  ear 

Of  his  disciples,  it  vibrated 

Like  the  first  whisper  in  a  siluit  world. 


They  <yime  on  slowly.     Heaviness  oppressed 

The  Saviour's  heart — and  when  the  kindnesses 

Of  his  deep  love  were  poured,  he  felt  the  need 

Of  near  communion — for  his  gift  of  strength 

Was  wasted  by  the  spirit's  weariness. 

He  left  them  there,  and  went  a  little  on — 

And,  in  the  depth  of  that  hushed  silentness^ 

Alone  with  God,  ha  fell  upon  his  face, 

And  as  his  heart  was  broken  with  the  rush 

Of  his  surprising  agony,  and  death, 

v/rung  to  him  from  a  dying  universe, 

Were  mightier  than  the  Son  of  man  could  bear, 

He  gave  his  sorrows  way,  and  in  the  deep 

Frustration  of  his  soul  breathed  out  the  prayer, 

(C  father,  if  it  be  possible  with  thee, 

Let  this  cup  pass  from  me."     Oh,  how  a  word, 

Like  the  forced  drop  before  the  fountain  breaks, 

Stilleth  the  press  of  human  agony  ! 

The  Saviour  felt  its  quiet  in  his  soul ; 

And  though  his  strength  was  weakness,  and  the  light 

Which  led  him  on  till  now  was  sorely  dim, 

He  breathed  a  new  submission — "  Not  my  will, 

But  thine  be  done,  ch  Father !"  As  he  spoke, 

Voices  were  heard  in  heaven,  and  music  stole 

Out  from  the  chambers  of  the  vaulted  sky, 

As  if  the  stars  were  swept  like  instruments. 

No  cloud  was  visible,  but  radiant  wings 

Were  coming  with  a  silvery  rush  to  earth — 

And,  as  the  Saviour  lose,  a  glorious  one, 

With  an  illumined  forehead,  and  the  light 

Whose  fountain  is  the  mystery  of  God, 

Encalmed  within  his  eye,  bowed  down  to  him, 

And  nerved  him  with  a  ministry  of  strength. 

It  was  enough,  and  with  his  godlike  brow 

Re-written  of  his  Father's  messenger, 

With  meekness,  whose  divinity  is  more 

Than  power  and  glory,  he  returned  again 

To  his  disciples,  and  awaked  their  sleep, 

For  "  he  that  should  betray  him  was  at  hand." 


PUELJSHEJD    BY    N.    BANGS    AND    J.    F.MO'.U, 
for  the  Tract  Society  of  tin-  Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  at  the  Co';; 
Office,  14  Crosby-.-treet,  New-York. 
.liar  Hiiyt,  Printer. 

79 


170.  80. 


PARLOUR  RELIGION  EXEMPLIFIED, 

IN  THE  PRACTICE  OF  FREDERICK,  HIS  FAMILY,  AND  FRIENDS. 

TIIOSE  to  whom  the  Lord  has  given  plenty  of  the  good 
things  of  this  world,  have  it  in  their  power  to  anticipate 
something  of  the  employments  and  enjoyments  of  heaven, 
so  far  as  the  imperfections  of  the  present  state  will  admit; 
for  they  have  all  things  richly  to  enjoy ;  they  may  choose 
their  company,  their  time,  and  entertainments,  and  in  all 
things  follow  the  pious  dispositions  of  their  hearts.  'Tis 
a  happiness  for  a  religious  person  to  visit,  or  to  be  in  a 
house,  that  has  a  good  man  at  its  head — such  a  house  as 
that  of  Frederick. 

In  the  morning  the  parlour  is  decently  prepared,  and 
warmed  for  the  reception  of  the  pious  family,  who  come 
from  their  chambers  smiling  with  gratitude  to  God,  and 
good  humoured  with  their  diligent  domestics. 

The  younger  children  during  infancy  are  in  the  n 
and  every  thing  that  might  interrupt,  is  prohibited  from 
entering  the  parlour,  which  is  at  this  time  as  a  chapeLfiwr 
devotion.     The  clock  having  struck  tl:  11  hoar, 

Frederick  and  his  beloved  wilt-  arr;  snatcd,  with  i: 
of  God  before  them  :  the  servants  enter  with  looks 
sivq  d'  (he  happiness  they  feel,  in  having  tho  ;  I 
•i"  being  God's  freemen.  ,ind  joining  th 
tress  in  his  service.     Umi. 
song  of  praise  to  God  for  his  mercies  is 


primitive  church,  and  a  portion  of  Scripture  is  read,  that 
their  minds  may  become  more  familiarly  acquainted  with 
the  sacred  oracles.  This  being  do'ne,  they  all  bow  their 
knees  to  Him  hy  whom  the  whole  family  in  heaven  and 
earth  is  named,  and  the  good  man  calls  upon  his  Lord 
and  Master  in  heaven,  with  expressions  of  profound  hom- 
age and  humility  ;  blessing  him  for  the  favours  of  the 
past  night,  and  the  pleasure  of  seeing  the  light  of  the  re- 
turning day.  Like  the  great  High  Priest  he  bears  on  his 
heart  all  his  family  before  God,  and  entreats  for  particular 
mercies  ascording  to  the  known  state  of  his  household, — 
and  puts  himself  and  all  his  affairs,  both  temporal  and 
spiritual,  into  the  hands  of  his  heavenly  Father.  He  then 
gives  them  his  benediction,  and  they  all  arise.  The  happy 
servants  cheered  and  warmed  with  the  aids  of  devotion, 
return  to  their  duty  each  according  to  his  place,  and  the 
family  with  guests  (if  such  are  present)  sit  down  to  break- 
fast on  the  overflowing  bounty  of  God's  providence. 

Business  or  works  of  piety  perhaps  call  the  master  of 
the  house  away,  and  the  mistress,  having  given  her  direc- 
tions in  her  family,  takes  her  usual  seat  and  employment 
in  her  parlour.  The  Bible  is  laid  near  her  to  be  referred 
to  as  her  best  director,  her  richest  cordial  in  trouble,  and 
most  faithful  monitor  in  all  doubtful  cases.  Nor  is  she 
fearful  that  any  visiter  should  find  her  with  this  compa- 
nion, for  she  desires  no  company  but  those  who  love  the 
Scriptures.  She  is  rather  of  the  sentiment  of  a  well 
known  female,  who  brought  her  family  Bible  into  her  par- 
lour, and  laying  it  on  the  table,  said,  Lie  there  thou  best 
of  books,  and  keep  thou  thy  place  whoever  comes  in.  A 
pious  visiter  or  two,  or  a  minister  of  Christ,  drops  in  per- 
haps in  the  forenoon. — If  so,  the  time  is  not  wasted  in 
unprofitable  talk*  but  the  place  is  honoured  by  beiiii; 
changed  into  the  similitude  of  the  holy  mount.  The 
heavenly  woman  and  her  guests  enter  into  discourse,  as 
Moses  and  Elias  did,  on  what  once  passed  at  Jerusalem, 
when  Jesus  gave  his  life  a  ransom  for  many  ;  and  their 
experience  so  confirms  their  interest  in  that  work  of  love, 
that  their  hearts  burn  within  them,  and  like  St.  Peter, 
they  find  it  good  to  be  there. 

The  hour  to  dine  being  come,  Frederick  returns,  and 
probably  brings  a  religious  friend  or  two  to  his  hospitable 
mansion.  The  table  being  spread  with  plenty,  without 


ostentation  the  provision  is  sanctified  by  the  prayer  of 
Frederick,  penetrated  with  a  sense  of  having  forfeited 
every  thing  by  sin ;  but  having  recovered  all  by  the  merit 
of  his  great  Saviour,  a  remembrance  of  whose  love  makes 
every  thing  more  sweet  and  refreshing.  Having  used, 
but  not  abused,  the  bounties  of  Providence,  grateful  ac- 
knowledgments are  returned  to  the  great  Giver  of  every 
good  gift;  and  the  pious  few  mingle  profitable  discourse 
with  their  wine,  or  concert  some  plan  for  supplying  the 
wants  of  those  who  are  in  distressing  circumstances. — 
Towards  evening,  a  select  company  grace  the  tea  table; 
and  the  interests  of  the  gospel,  with  the  best  means  of 
spreading  its  influence  aroand  them,  become  the  subject 
of  their  conversation.  Should  national  affairs  happen  to 
be  introduced,  they  express  their  loyalty  to  their  country, 
and  their  thankfulness  to  God,  for  the  many  invaluable 
privileges  enjoyed  by  their  nation.  The  hour  of  parting 
being  come,  the  praises  of  God  introduce  the  devotion  of 
the  evening, — in  which,  as  in  the  morning,  the  Scriptures 
are  read,  and  all  the  family  called  to  unite.  Care  is  taken 
not  to  protract  this  service  to  an  immoderate  length,  lest 
the  children,  on  account  of  their  tender  years,  and  the 
servants,  wearied  with  the  labour  of  the  day,  might  be  in- 
clined to  sleep,  when  their  minds  ought  to  be  attentive. 
Nor  is  it  hurried  over  as  though  it  were  of  no  importance: 
but  sufficient  time  is  taken  reverently  and  decently  to 
thank  God  for  his  goodness, — earnestly  to  entreat  him  to 
pardon  their  sins,  and  to  commit  themselves  into  his  care 
and  protection. 

Oh  ye  worldlings  I  what  can  ye  produce  in  the  scenes 
of  your  lives,  that  is  worthy  to  bu  compared  with  thi.*  ? 
"The  curse  of  God,"  says  the  Scriptures,  "is  iti  t'ao 
dwellings  ot'  the  wicked."  Your  parlours  have  no  bless- 
ings in^them.  Your  children  and  servants  never  hear  th» 
name  of  God  mentioned  in  them,  unless  with  !i. 
and  disrespect.  Your  tables  are  unblessed.  No  gratctll 
effusion  of  heart  to  that  beneficent  Being  who  crowns 
your  board  with  plenty,  and  gives  you  health  to  enjoy 
your  repast.  And  yet  how  dependant  on  that  very  Being! 
How  soon  might  the  food  you  eat  be  turned  into  deadly 
poison. 

The  parlour?  I  have  been  describing  are  types  of  hon- 
*cn.  where  due  returns  are  made  to  God  for  his  bounties, 
eo 


Ye  are  d  v'uded  by  what  you  call  rational  amusements. — 
Like  children  ye  divert  yourselves  in  foolish  play,  night 
after  night,  wasting  your  time,  and  substance.  "  And  the 
God  in  whose  hand  is  your  breath,  you  have  not  glorified." 
Any  thing  that  is  serious,  and  useful  to  your  souls,  you 
will  not  once  hear, — much  less  will  you  hear  it  repeated. 
And  what  will  you  do  in  the  end  thereof'1?  Oh !  that  ye 
were  wise,  that  ye  would  consider  your  ways,  and  at  last 
make  some  returns  of  gratitude  to  a  gracious  God  for  all 
his  benefits  bestowed  on  you. 

SABBATH  DAYS. 
Types  of  eternal  rest — fair  buds  of  bliss, 

In  heavenly  flowers  unfolding  week  by  week. 
The  next  world's  gladness  imaged  forth  in  this — 

Days  of  whose  worth  the  Christian's  heart  can  speak. 

Eternity  in  time — the  steps  by  which 

We  climb  to  future  ages — lamps  that  light 

Man  through  his  darker  days,  and  thought  enrich, 
Yielding  redemption  for  the  week's  full  flight. 

Wak'ners  of  prayer  in  man — his  resting  bowers, 

As  on  he  journeys  in  the  narrow  way, 
Where,  Eden  like,  Jehovah's  walking  hours 

Are  waited  for  as  in  the  cool  of  day. 

Days  fix'd  by  God  for  intercourse  with  dust, 
To  raise  our  thoughts,  and  purify  our  powers ; 

Periods  appointed  to  renew  our  trust — 
A  gleam  of  glory  after  six  days'  showers  ! 

A  milky  way  mark'd  out  through  skies  else  drear, 
By  radiant  suns  that  warm  as  well  as  shine — 

A  clue  which  he  who  follows  knows  no  fear, 

Though  briers  and  thorns  around  his  path  way  twine. 

Foretastes  of  heaven  on  earth — pledges  of  joy — 
Surpassing  fancy's  flight  and  fiction's  story — 

The  preludes  of  a  feast  that  cannot  cloy, 

And  the  bright  out  courts  of  immortal  glory  ! 

PUBLISHED    BT    N.    EAXGS    AND    J.    EMORY, 

For  the  Tract  Society  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  at  the  Conference 
Office,  14  Crosby-street,  New-York. 

<      Aior  Hoyt,  Printer. 


«TO.  82. 

OW  RESTITTTTI01T. 


^  As  all  mankind  are  sinners,  both  by  nature  and  prac- 
tice, so  the  necessity  of  repentance,  to  every  one  who 
would  inherit  everlasting  life,  is  indispensable.  This 
truth  is  laid  down  by  Scripture,  in  the  clearest  and  most 
unequivocal  manner.  John  the  Baptist,  the  immediate 
forerunner  of  the  Messiah,  preached  to  the  multitudes  who 
came  to  him  in  the  wilderness  the  doctrine  of  repentance 
Matt.  iii.  Those  disciples  who  were  chosen  to  proclaim, 
during  the  period  of  our  Redeemer's  incarnation,  the  ap- 
proach of  the  gospel  dispensation,  styled  the  kingdom  ot 
heaven,  "  went  out  and  preached  that  men  should  repent," 
Mark  vi,  12.  The  Saviour  of  the  world,  bimself,  entered 
on  his  mission  by  publishing  this  truth.  "  The  kingdom  o 
God  is  at  hand ;  repent  ye  and  believe  the  gospel,"  Mark 
i,  15.  On  one  occasion,  in  particular,  he  enforces  it  with 
peculiar  emphasis,  saying,  "  Except  ye  rep:"it,  ye  shall  all 
likewise  perish,"  Luke  xiii,  3-5.  And,  to  mention  no 
more,  the  apostles,  after  receiving  the  Holy  Ghost,  con- 
tinually evidenced  their  conviction  of  the  universal  obliga- 
tion of  this  duty  :  for  their  language  was  "  Repent,  and  be 
baptized  every  one  of  you,"  Acts  ii,  17.  "  Repent  ye, 
therefore,  and  be  converted,"  Acts  iii,  19.  "  God  com- 
mandeth  all  men  every  where  to  repent,"  Acts  xvii,  30. 

True  repentance  supposes  such  a  conviction  of  sin  as 
produces  deep  and  unfeigned  sorrow  for  having  committed 
it;  this  sorrow  is  manifested  by  "  fruits  meet  for  repent- 
ance," Matt,  iii,  7  ;  that  is,  by  ceasing  to  do  evil,  and 
learning  to  do  well.  To  the  penitent  the  gracious  invita- 
tion of  Jesus  Christ  is  immediately  addressed,  Matt,  xi,  28. 
And  whosoever  comes  to  Christ,  and  believes  on  him, 
shall  be  saved,  Jj)hn  iii,  17. 

One  very  important  fruit  of  true  repent'ince,  however, 
DO  which  the  reader's  attention  is  more  particularly  soli- 
cited, is  that  of  restitution.     This  duty  arises  out  of  tl 
nature  of  repentance  itself;  because,  if  we  are  heartily 
sorry  for  having  done  any  evil  which  it  is  io  our  power 
undo,  a  desire  to  obtain  peace  to  our  own  minds,  will 
naturally  lead  us  to  seek  to  repair  our  fault  by  undoing;, 
as  far  as  circumstances  will  admit,  the  evil  of  which  we 


2  ON  RESTITUTION. 

have  been  guilty ;  for  instance,  if  we  are  sorry  for  having 
wronged  our  neighbour,  we  shall  seek  to  restore  to  him  his 
right;  if  we  are  sorry  for  having  injured  his  reputation  or 
character,  we  shall  labour  to  remove  the  odium  we  have 
thrown  upon  it.  And  he  can  have  but  little  grounds  lor 
pretending  to  sincere  repentance,  who  still  holds  fast  his 
iniquitous  gains,  or  refuses  to  use  every  proper  method  to 
justify  and  clear  the  character  that  he  has  wronged. 

It  is  an  act  of  justice,  and  mere  equity  between  man 
and  man,  but,  especially,  that  comprehensive  rule  which 
requires  us  to  do  unto  others  as  we  would  they  should  do 
unto  us,  demands,  that  we  should  make  restitution  to  the 
person  whom  we  have  injured,  according  to  the  utmost  of 
our  ability.  He  who  refuses  to  do  this,  is  guilty  of  flagrant 
injustice,  by  withholding  from  his  fellow  creature  that 
which  is  his  due  ;  and  it.  would  be  the  height  of  presump- 
tion for  such  a  one  to  expect  forgiveness  from  the  hands  of 
his  Creator  and  Judge,  until  he  has  learned  to  exercise 
justice  towards  man. 

The  duty  of  restitution,  as  a  fruit  of  repentance,  is 
strongly  enforced  in  Scripture.  And  the  will  of  God  on 
this  subject  is  clearly  manifested  in  the  following  passage  : 
<£  If  the  wicked  restore  the  pledge,  give  again  that  he  had 
robbed,  and  walk  in  the  statutes  of  life  without  committing" 
iniquity,  he  shall  surely  live,"  Ezek.  xxxiii,  15. 

The  ceremonial  law,  in  giving  directions  relative  to  the 
expiation  of  sins  of  injustice  towards  others,  requires  that 
restitution  should  be  made  to  the  injured  person,  previous 
to  offering  any  sacrifice  for  the  sin.  See  Lev.  vi,  2-7.  The 
restitution  there  prescribed,  is  of  things  taken  by  violence  ; 
of  things  gotten  by  deceit,  as  by  cheating  and  everreach- 
ing ;  of  things  delivered  to  keep  and  which  have  been 
embezzled,  or  made  way  with;  of  things  that  have  been 
found,  and  kept  back  from  their  owners  ;  and  of  all  things 
about  which  a  false  oath  hath  been  taken ;  in  all  these 
cases  the  principal  is  to  be  restored,  and  a  fifth  part  added 
thereto,  on  the  day  of  the  trespass  offering,  Lev.  vi,  4,  5. 
The  case  of  Zaccheus  is  remarkable,  Luke  xix,  8  :  influ- 
enced by  the  Holy  Ghost,  he  made  restitution  of  all  he  had 
iniquitously  taken  according  to  the  rule  established  in  such 
cases  by  the  Roman  law,  the  law  under  which  he  had 
offended ;  and  even  Judas  the  apostate  felt  and  acknow- 
ledged the  necessity  of  restitution ;  for  he  fully  cleared 


ON  RESTITUTION.  3 

the  character  that  he  had  calumniated,  and  gave  back  the 
money  he  had  so  wickedly  gained,  Matt,  xxvii,  3-5. 

It  is  related  of  good  Bishop  Latimer,  that,  when  he  was 
preaching  before  Edward  VI,  and  many  of  his  courtiers, 
from  Luke  xix,  8 ;  he  urged  the  necessity  of  restitution, 
as  a  Christian  duty,  in  the  most  pointed  manner,  charging 
many  of  those  in  high  office,  who  were  then  present,  with 
being  guilty  of  defrauding  his  majesty's  revenue  ;  observ- 
ing, that  he  could  then  point  them  out  to  his  majesty  ;  but 
that  he  hoped  truth  and  a  consciousness  of  their  sin,  would 
cause  them  speedily  to  restore  what  they  had  so  vilely 
taken  away,  and  that  his  duty  to  God,  to  them,  and  to  his 
king  was  such,  that  he  must  faithfully  inform  his  majesty 
if  they  did  not :  and  that,  if  they  were  at  a  loss  for  a  way 
of  making  this  restitution,  without  exposing  themselves  to 
public  censure,  they  might  bring  the  money  to  him,  and  he 
promised  them  before  God,  that  it  should  be  safely  con- 
veyed to  the  king's  use,  and  that  no  one  should  know  from 
whom  it  came.  It  appears  that  large  sums  were  soon 
restored  through  the  hands  of  the  pious  bishop.  His  sen-* 
timents  on  this  subject,  and  his  manner  of  address  before 
the  king,  may  be  seen  in  his  "  Sermon  on  Restitution," 
which  is  still  in  existence,  a  few  sentences  of  which  are 
fcere  subjoined, 

"  1  have  now  preached  three  lents.  The  first  time  I 
preached  restitution  :  '  restitution,'  quoth  some,  '  \V  hat 
should  he  preach  of  restitution  ?  Let  him  preach  contri- 
tion,' quoth  they,  'and  let  restitution  alone:  we  can  never 
make  restitution.' — Then  say  I,  if  thou  wilt  not  make 
restitution,  thou  shalt  go  to  the  devil  for  it.  Now,  choose 
thec  either  restitution,  or  else  endless  damnation.  At  my 
first  preaching  of  restitution,  one  man  took  remorse  of 
conscience,  and  acknowledged  himself  to  me,  that  he  had 
deceived  tha  king,  and  willing  he  was  to  make  restitution, 
and  so,  the  first  lent,  came  to  my  hands,  twenty  pounds, 
to  be  restored  to  the  king's  use.  Well,  the  next  lent,  came 
three  hundred  and  twenty  pounds  more  :  I  received  it  my- 
self and  paid  it  to  the  king's  council.  I  was  asked  who 
he  was  that  made  this  restitution?  But  should  I  have 
named  him  ?  Nay,  they  should  as  soon  have  had  my  lite. 
Well ;  now  this  lent,  came  one  hundred  and  eighty  pounds, 
ten  shillings,  which  I  have  paid  this  present  day  to  th 
king's  council.  '  And  so,'  quoth  I,  to  a  certain  nobleman 


4  ON  RESTITUTION. 

that  is  one  of  the  king's  council,  '  If  every  man  that  hath 
beguiled  the  king,  should  make  restitution  after  this  sort, 
it  would  bring  the  king  twenty  thousand  pounds.' — '  Yea, 
that  it  would,'  quoth  he,  '  a  whole  hundred'  thousand 
pounds."  Alack!  Alack!  make  restitution ;  for  God's  sake 
make  restitution :  ye  will  repent  in  hell  else !  There  is 
no  reined)  but  restitution,  open  or  secret,  or  else  hell." 

The  following  letter,  which  appears  to  have  been  the 
second  on  that  subject,  breathes  a  spirit  of  repentance, 
and  exemplifies  the  duty  of  restitution  : — 

"  Sir, — In  November,  1804,  I  sent  you  a  letter,  con- 
taining five  guineas,  addressed  to  yourself  and  your  late 
father,  whom  I  did  not  then  know  to  be  departed  this  life. 
The  same  blessed  and  glorious  God,  whose  grace  was  the 
sole  cause  of  my  sending  the  former,  has  induced,  and  en- 
abled me  to  inclose  a  farther  sum  of  five  guineas,  to  pay 
what  I  so  iniquitously  took  away,  hoping  you  will  receive 
the  same,  and  accept  the  contrition  of  a  poor  penitent. 
I  have  shed  many  a  tear  of  sorrow,  while  I  have  reflected 
on  rny  dishonesty.  And  now,  sir,  permit  me  to  lead  your 
mind  to  consider  the  riches  of  the  gospel  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ.  Its  divine  precepts  taught  me  my  guilt  and  trans- 
.gressions ;  God's  Spirit  convinced  me  of  my  sin  ;  and, 
after  discovering  to  me  the  terrors  of  a  broken  law,  in 
good  time,  led  and  enabled  me  to  behold  the  perfect  re- 
mission of  sins  ;  of  all  sins,  promised  and  ensured  to  me, 
on  repentance  and  faith  in  God'i*  blessed  Son.  To  the 
glory  of  God,  I  humbly  declare,  that  I  have  long  enjoyed 
a  sense  of  forgiveness,  and  a  calm  peacefulness,  looking 
alone  to  the  Lamb  of  God,.  And  while  his  blessed  gospel 
speaks  peace  to  my  wounded  conscience,  it  leads  me  to 
wish  to  make  reparation,  as  far  as  is  in  my  power.  It 
produces  holiness,  justice,  and  true  morality,  for  faith 
workcth  hi/  love.  Although  unknown,  I  hope,  sir,  your 
heart  inclines  to  forgive  me.  In  a  little  time  we  shall  meet 
at  the  judgment  seat  of  Christ,  when  you  will  see  who  I 
am.  May  it  please  Almighty  God  to  bless  what  I  have 
writtnn,  and  to  accept  this  humble  offering  to  the  glory  ot 
his  holy  nan:'-1,  and  the  honour  of  the  gospel  of  his  glori- 
ous Son,  T.\'  u,s  Christ.  May  his  Holy  Spirit  mercifully 
incline  your  heart,  and  all  who  read  these  lines,  to  con- 
sider so  great  a  salvation,  and  to  apply  unto  Christ,  with 
joy  am!  thanksgiving,  that  we  may  all  join  in  saying,  "  Not 


ON  RESTITUTION.  5 

unto  us,  oh  Lord !  but  unto  thy  name,  be  the  glory  and 
praise,  for  ever  and  ever.  Amen." 

The  same  grace  of  God  will  produce  the  same  feelings 
.  wherever  its  influence  is  yielded  unto.  When  Mr.  T.  O. 
^was  awakened  to  a  sense  of  his  sin  and  guilt,  under  the 
ministry  of  that  great  and  good  man,  Mr.  Whitfield,  it  be- 
came one  of  his  tirst  concerns  to  do  justice,  by  discharging 
all  the  small  debts  he  had  contracted  before  his  conversion, 
and  he  travelled  into  various  parts  of  tins  country  to  find 
out  the  persons  to  whom  he  owed  any  thing. 

"  A  woman  called  on  me,"  says  Mr.  Strachan,  "  a  few 
days  since,  who,  on  stepping  into  the  room  to  speak  with 
her,  burst  into  a  flood  of  tears,  and  in  broken  accents  re- 
lated the  following  circumstance: — '  Sixteen  yc-irs  ago,  I 

was  servant  to  Mr. ,  at .     Going  one  day  into 

his  counting  house,  I  observed  a  number  of  bank  notes 
lying^  on  his  writing  desk.  My  covetous  heart  prompted 
me  to  steal  one  of  them,  which  I  did,  and  got  clear  off. 
For  some  days  I  felt%  great  deal  of  uneasiness  from  a 
conviction  of  the  enormity  of  this  crime  ;  but  in  a  little 
time  the  conviction  wore  off,  and  I  resumed  my  former 
cheerfulness.  I  have  been  deeply  impressed  of  late  with, 
that  passage  of  Scripture, '  Thou  God  seest  me ;  and  I  feel 
that  I  cannot  obtain  peace  with  God  until  restitution  is 
made ;  I  have  therefore  prepared  a  letter  inclosing  a  one 
pound  note,  and  will  be  much  obliged  by  your  calling  on 
my'old  mistress  and  delivering  it  to  her.'  After  adminis- 
tering suitable  advice  to  the  penitent,  I  embraced  the  first 
opportunity  of  fulfilling  her  Bequest." 

They  who  are  disposed  by  the  Holy  Ghost  to  this  duty, 
will,  it  is  presumed,  seldom  be  ai  a  loss  how  to  perform 
it,  or  to  decide  to  what  extent  restitution  is  to  be  made. 
It  is  possible,  however,  that  difficult  cases  may  occur,  in 
which  it  will  require  much  prudence,  deliberation,  and 
fervent  prayer,  as  well  as  the  counsel  of  wise  and  pious 
persons.  Yet,  let  no  one  ever  attempt  to  lull  his  con- 
science to  sleep  over  the  neglect  of  this  duty,  because  its 
performance  may  be  attended  with  difficulties. 

In  ordinary  cases  the  following  hints  may  be  useful : — 
1.  That  where  restitution  can  be  made  in  kind,  or  the 
injury  can  be  certainly  valued,  we  are  to  restore  the  Iking 
or  its  value. — 2.  We  are  bound  to  restore  the  thing  with  the 
natural  increase  of  it,  that  is  to  satisfy  for  the  loss  sustain- 


6  ON  RESTITUTION. 

ed  in  the  mean  time,  and  the  gain  hindered. — 3.  Where 
Jhe  thing  cannot  be  restored,  and  the  value  of  it  is  not 
certain,  we  are  to  give  reasonable  satisfaction,  according 
to  a  middle  estimation. — 4.  We  are  to  give,  at  least,  what 
the  law  would  give,  for  that  is  generally  equal,  and  in  most 
cases  rather  favourable  than  otherwise. — 5.  A  man  is  not 
only  bound  to  restitution  for  the  injury  he  has  done,  but 
for  al!  that  directly  follows  upon  the  injurious  act. — 6. 
Whore  the  injured  person  is  dead,  restitution  should  be 
made  to  his  nearest  relative  living  ;  and  where  no  relative 
is  left,  the  iniquitous  gain  should  be  devoted  to  the  cause 
of  God  and  the  poor,  but  in  no  case  can  it  be  innocently 
kept ;  for  he  who  would  approach  with  acceptance  unto 
God,  must  be  careful  to  cleanse  his  hands  from  iniquity. 
When,  bv  the  grace  of  God,  yon  have  already  made 
such  restitution,  as  the  nature  of  the  case  demands,  or 
your  ability  enables  you  to  make  it,  do  not  immediately 
conclude  that  on  this  account  yot;r  sin  is  forgiven  and 
future  happiness  secured.  Repentance,  and  consequently, 
restitution,  are  necessary,  as  preparatory  steps  to  salvation ; 
but  on  no  other  ground,  than  the  meritorious  sacrifice  of 
Jesus  Christ  upon  the  cross,  can  he  who  has  pinned  obtr.iti 
cardon  in  the  siuht  of  Uodi  When,  therefore,  ycur  peni- 
tent and  contrite  spirit,  by  faith,  lays  hcM  of,  and  rests 
Upon,  the  atonement  for  sin,  made  by  your  divine  Re- 
deemer, you  shall  feel  the  blessed  effects  of  so  doing,  by 
experiencing  a  salvation  from  the  guilt  and  dominion  of 
your  iniquity.  With  the  heart,  you  shall  believe  unto 
righteousness,  and  with  the  mouth,  make  confession  unto 
salvation. 

EXTRACT 

From  Dr.  A.  Clarke's  remarks  on  Genesis  xlii,  and  Leviticus  vi,  3. 
There  is  one  doctrine  relative  to  the  economy.of  divine 
providence,  little  heeded  among  men  :  I  mean  the  doctrine 
of  restitution.  When  a  man  bus  done  wrong  to  his  neigh- 
bour, though  on  his  repentance,  and  faith  in  our  Lord 
Jesus,  God"  forgives  him  his  sin,  yet  he  requires  him  to 
make  restitution  to  the  person  injured,  if  it  lie.  in  the  com- 
post «f  his  potw.  If  he  do  not,  God  will  take  care  to 
exact  it  in  the  course  of  his  providence.  Such  respect  has 
he  for  the  dictates  of  infinite  justice,  that  nothing  of  this 
kind  shall  pass  unnoticed.  No  man  should  expect  mercy 


ON  RESTITUTION.  7 

at  the  hand  of  God,  who,  having  wronged  his  neighlxmr, 
refuses,  when  he  has  it  in  his  power,  to  make  restitution. 
Were  he  to  weep  tears  of  blood,  both  the  justice  and  mercy 
of  God  would  shut  out  his  prayer,  if  he  made  not  his 
neighbour  amends  for  the  injury  he  may  have  done  him. 
The  mercy  of  God,  through' the  blood  of  the  cross,  can 
alone  pardon  his  guilt;  but  no  dishonest  man  can  expect 
this ;  and  he  is  a  dishonest  man  who  illegally  holds  the 
property  of  another  in  his  hand.  The  unnatural  brethren, 
who  sold  their  brother  into  captivity,  are  now  about  to  be 
captivated  themselves;  and  the  binder  himself  is  bound  in 
his  turn  ;  and  though  a  kind  providence  does  not  permit 
the  evil  to  fall  upon  them,  yet,  while  apprehending  it,  they 
feel  all  its  reality  ;  conscience  tupplying  the  lack  of  prison, 
jailer,  and  bonds. 

The  Roman  lawyers  laid  it  down  as  a  sound  maxim  in 
jurisprudence,  "  That  he  who  found  any  property,  and 
applied  it  to  his  own  use,  should  be  considered  as  a  thief, 
whether  he.  knew  the  owner  or  not ;  for  in  their  view  the 
crime  was  not  lessened,  suppose  the  finder  was  totally 
ignorant  of  the  right  awner."  On  this  subject  every 
honest  man  must  say,  that  the  man  who  finds  any  lost 
property,  and  does  not  make  all  due  inquiry  to  find  out  the 
owner,  should  in  sound  policy  be  treated  as  a  thief.  It  is 
said  of  the  Dyrboeans,  a  people  who  inhabited  the  tract 
between  Bactria  and  India,  that  if  they  met  with  any  lost 
property,  even  on  the  public  road,  they  never  even  touched 
it.  This  was  actually  the  case  ra  this  kingdom  in  the  time  of 
Alfred  the  Great,  about  A.  D.  888 ;  so  that  golden  brace- 
Jets  hung  up  on  the  public  roads  were  untouched  by  the 
•finger  of  rapine.  One  of  Solon's  laws  was,  Take,  not  up 
ichat  you  laid  not  down.  How  easy  to  act  by  this  prin- 
ciple in  case  of  finding  lost  property  :  "  This  k>  not  mine, 
and  it  would  be  criminal  to  convert  it  to  my  use,  unless  th« 
owner  be  dead,  and  his  family  extinct."  When  all  due 
inquiry  is  made,  if  no  owner  can  be  found,  the  lost  pro- 
perty may  be  legally  considered  to  be  the  property  of  the 
finder. 

LOUD,  we  are  vile,  conceived  in  sin, 
And  born  unholy  and  unclean  : 
Sprung  from  the  man  whosr-  guilty  fall 
Corrupts  his  race,  and  taints  us  all. 


ON  RESTITUTION. 

Soon  as  we  draw  our  infant  breath, 
The  seeds  of  sin  grow  up  for  death ; 
Thy  law  demands  a  perfect  heart, 
But  we're  defiled  in  every  part. 

Great  God,  create  my  heart  anew, 
And  form  my  spirit  pure  and  true  ; 
Oh  make  me  wise  betimes  to  see 
My  danger  and  my  remedy. 

Behold,  I  fall  before  thy  face ; 

My  only  refuge  is  thy  grace  : 

No  outward  forms  can  make  me  clean ; 

The  leprosy  lies  deep  within. 

No  bleeding  bir<$  nor  bleeding  beast, 
Nor  hyssop  branch,  nor  sprinkling  priest, 
Nor  running  brook,  nor  flood,  nor  sea, 
Can  wash  the  dismal  stain  away. 

Jesus,  my  God,  thy  blood  alone 
Hath  power  sufficient  to  atone  ; 
Thy  blood  can  make  me  white  as  snow ; 
No  Jewish  types  could  cleanse  me  so. 

While  guilt  disturbs  and  breaks  my  peace, 
Nor  flesh,  nor  soul  hath  rest  or  ease; 
Lord,  let  me  hear  thy  pard'ning  voice, 
And  make  my  broken  heart  rejoice. 


PUBLISHED  BY  N.  BANGS  AND  J.  EMORY, 

For  th«  T-c..  "'•  ••''  ''>'•  Methodist  Episcopal  Chinch  at 

Office,  14  Crosby-street,  New-York. 


Hoyt,  Printer. 


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